Lost Memories, Revamped!
by ArchXDeath
Summary: Prequel to Lost Smiles, Revamped! Derek, a boy who struggles in the shadow of his siblings. Damion, a boy with an incredible potential who is alone. Yuki, a girl with a heart as white as her snowy hometown. What do they have in common?
1. Derek

**A/N - 'lo guys! We just hit the New Years here in Korea, so I hope you all enjoy 2012! I hope I do, =)**

**I'll be releasing chapters 3 times a week instead of all at once, so look forward to it!**

**Yes, yes, I promised the entire story. But I'm revising the revised version of my story, so yeah. (Inception, much?) This is for our one-year anniversary, so I don't wanna release crappy chapters with no value in them!**

**But really guys, thanks for making one year possible! I can't even begin to say how proud I am, and how happy I am to have gotten so much better at writing. I'm still an amateur, and a bad one at that, so I'll keep at it. Watch out world, 'cause Archie's here to stay!  
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**Hope you all enjoy, and see ya!**

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><p>Children, as we refer to them, are often considered the lesser beings. True, their intellect is indeed inferior, as well as their physical stature. However, to be a lesser being requires you not only to have an inferior intellect and weaker physical body, but to also be weaker in heart and resolve.<p>

Innocence is often related to children. Curiosity as well; there are no "bad" children, in the sense of innocence and curiosity. A child is not expected to know the difference between good and bad, the similarities of love and joy, the anguish of loneliness.

Of course, there may always be exceptions.

-.-.-

**When I was a kid, I never really understood what I wanted in life.**

_Snap. _His irritation had hit the breaking point—literally. The tip of the plastic writing tool had broken off, leaving him with a useless hunk of human waste.

Deftly, Derek threw the pen at the wall, too irritated to continue studying. The plastic covering of the pen shattered on contact with the hard wood. Ink spilled onto a number of his papers, followed shortly by the pen. He didn't mind; they were just summaries of the books. He had memorized them all already.

Despite the ever slight amount of satisfaction he gained from breaking yet another one of his pens (that made four that week), it disappeared in a few moments. Normally people would have stopped breaking their pens after discovering how dull it was, but he couldn't help it. Every time he remembered the disgusting face of his brother, he couldn't help but snap.

Thoughts, calculations, sayings, and comparisons flashed into his head. He was used to how fast his train of thought was, so he wasn't surprised his mind was comparing him to his brother.

He cleaned up the ink as his brain got to work. Sure, Michael was an amazing person—perhaps one of the most amazing in the world, even. He was a genius, he was athletic, he was confident in his own abilities—nothing was truly out of his reach.

Still, that wasn't the reason why Michael was famous. Yes, those traits contributed to his popularity, but there was one thing that had gained him the title _Champion _in so many regions: his battling skills.

Derek nearly dropped the ink-soaked papers onto his floor. His hand had jerked in irritation, which was an odd habit of his. A sigh escaped from his mouth as he dropped the papers into the trash can.

'_Forget about him_,' he told himself.

Easier said than done.

Derek _tch_ed, turning his gaze towards the left side of the room. The bookshelf to the side had multiple voids as the contents were spread across the floor: _A Trainer's Guide to Kanto_; _Pros and Cons of Starter Pokémon_; _How to Raise a Dragon-type_; and even _Psychological Effects of Evolution_.

To the right was his bed, also covered by several books. He picked up _Blue Beauty _from his pillow, tossing the Ponyta fantasy onto his desk. It was one of the few fiction stories he had, and had thus been read through far too many times. He could almost recite it word-for-word, every one of the forty-nine chapters.

Another sigh of exasperation fled from between his teeth. He felt the growing annoyance at his lack of things to do. He considered leaving his room, but knew he would only receive another annoying lecture from his annoying parents, which would only worsen his annoyed mood.

Something about the word _annoying _was...well, annoying him.

He turned back towards his desk—also littered with books. It was disgusting, really, how many pages he had read. After all, he was just a kid, but he had probably read more books than a college student.

'_College_?' The word rang through his head. It was the alternative to becoming a Pokémon Trainer: becoming a student. Not a trainee, not an academy student, but a simple school student. He shuddered at the thought. It would be no different from what he was suffering through currently: never-ending studies. It would be even worse, though, as he would be learning worthless things, like grammar, mathematics, et cetera.

In his mind were already a basic outline of most of these things. He wasn't great, of course, but he was more than just adequate. It never had, and never would, occur to him that he was indeed talented. Such things were simple tasks, and so, even at the age six, schoolwork for those twice his age and older was understandable.

The disgust was replaced by a sudden boredom. He felt confined in his room. The window could be opened, but it was too small for him to escape through. Even if he managed to open the door quietly, the steps would cause a vibration that rang through the whole house like an earthquake if he went down to the first floor.

Nothing came to mind as he racked his brain for a way to escape. He had done so multiple times, every day, but it never worked. No matter how he planned it, no matter how he attempted it, he always either found the scenario too difficult to reenact or was caught before he could get out.

Another sigh.

'_If this is what a Pokémon feels like in its Pokéball, then when I become a Trainer, I'll be sure to let them out and breathe_,' he mused.

Then again, books he had read on said subject had indicated that Pokémon were retained as energy. It was a concept to wonder about, as the books never elaborated on it: did Pokémon keep consciousness inside the Poké Balls? Pokémon can react to situations outside their Pokéballs that are happening to their Trainers, some say. But as energy, how was that even possible, if they didn't have the structure or build-up in which they could receive soundwaves, vibrations, or any other forces?

He frowned. It was like trying to find the exit in a spiraling maze: every question he asked, every step he took, seemed to lead to an answer the exact same as before.

Deciding it was unimportant, he released the thought. It wouldn't be hard to figure out after he became a Trainer himself.

_If _he became a Trainer.

A small frown crept onto the boy's face as he sat down on his bed. There was always the slight possibility his parents would keep him confined in the house and not let him go on a journey. He could be forced into a school, which would, quite honestly, be ghastly.

'_Gastly_?' he wondered oddly. He wondered if that was where the adjective came from. It was possible, really. But it was beside the point.

Point was, if he didn't escape for his journey, he would be stuck learning forever. He knew far more than he needed to, and he was more than confident that he could be a Champion. Not just because of his knowledge, but also because of his bloodline.

The Risque family, though with a French name, had much mixed blood. With a Japanese mother, a French/American father, and four brilliant children, the Risque family held an odd, stately manner about it.

Culture, though, wasn't the only thing thrown askew in this family. Normal standards were broken as well. By the law of the world, those who are gifted by heaven are also cursed by hell—simply stated, all of the physical world follows the law of equivalent exchange. However, flaws were hard to find in most of the Risque family.

Most, as in Derek was excluded. His flaws were, perhaps, not obvious, but definitely there. Irrationality was one. Rashness was another. A sense of pride and self-confidence was also in his character. But most of all, there was one flaw that could completely ruin him: his lack of trust.

Nobody he met was any good towards him. They all treated him oddly, whether it be with respect or with disgust. It started with his red eyes. The fools would glance at him, see their crimson shade, and then either ask if he was wearing contacts, flinch, or turn and walk away. The ones who asked would soon join the ones who flinched. They would both stare at him oddly, as if wondering whether he was kidding or not, and then leave him.

Even kids his own age were no good. There was one kid—named Ash?—who had no manners. He was obnoxious, and Derek quickly decided to leave him be. Another, Gary, was obnoxious, but in a different manner. He, too, had no manners, but in a rude sense, not a playful, bright sense. It was rather like talking to an insulting wall.

Some people would turn, then, towards family. Why, of course his family would accept him, correct? Wrong. Derek's family treated him well enough, but it wasn't a caring treatment. With his parents, it was like being treated as a student by an anti-social teacher: they shared no love; he only did what they told him to, studied, and passed the class. His siblings were just as bad: Michael was, in one word, an ass; and Jane was quite similar to a Snorlax—fat, ugly, and smelly too. All she did was eat.

Aliana was an exception, though. Derek's mind drifted towards her; his great, wonderful, perfect sister. Of course, she was brilliant, unlike him. A saint, an angel, heaven's blessing to Earth, a prodigy, everything that he wished to be but couldn't—

'_Stop that_,' he told himself, ridding himself of the bitter tone his thoughts had gained. '_What's the point in hating the only person who treats you decently_?'

He felt the tears gather in his eyes. It was just too much, this was. Loneliness he could handle, and all the fantasy books, all the history books, and all the Pokémon information books explained that loneliness was the worst pain. If loneliness was a pain that caused madness, then Derek had already accepted that.

But they were wrong, he thought viciously. Loneliness wasn't the worst pain. The greatest pain was forever being in another's shadow—to never be accepted as your own self.


	2. Damion

But in general, like the bright blue sky, children seem to have a boundless amount of energy. Their enthusiasm and playfulness can get tiring for some people, but again, there are always people who just love children because of this.

Some children have even more energy than others. Unique, in a way, that only a few can truly catch this extraordinary endurance, as these types of people often become the most powerful. Trainers, who are regarded as the toughest people of all, can be related to this sort of energy; their will does not waver. Even when the times get tough, these types of people overcome and take strength from the challenge.

-.-.-

**When I was a kid, I was always a bit lonely.**

Damion watched the water ripple in a cascade of flows as the rain poured. The pond that had always been filled with Water Pokémon was quite empty, as if they were afraid of the rain. He knew that was weird, but he didn't know why; was it because of the orange juice he had spilled? Maybe it had mixed with the water that turned into rain. He wondered if Pokémon disliked orange juice.

He sighed wistfully. He had wanted to visit Ms. Aliana and play with the Pokémon on her farm, but he decided that most of her Pokémon wouldn't appreciate the rain anyway. He was sick of the rain, even though he knew he should have gotten used to it by then. Blackthorn City was really moist, and he could've sworn that in the summer it was like a shower just _walking_.

Though, it wasn't as if he was _bored_. He had games he could play, but he was a bit lonely by himself. Even if his parents would play with him if he asked, he knew that it would only be a pain to them. They had work to do, he told himself, and he would only slow them down.

'_Besides, if they finish quickly, then maybe I can play with Dad for a whole day_!' He grinned at the very thought of it. It was rare, considering how busy his dad was with all the work he had. His mother, too, was busy with family relations. Something about a man named Setso-something.

Well, either way, he would have to deal with it for now. It was only a day, after all. And besides, in just another month, it would be Christmas. He knew Ms. Aliana was going to give him a Pokémon egg: she had told him almost outright that she would. He had no idea what kind of Pokemon, but with excitement, he knew it would be a great Pokémon.

Then again, even if he didn't realize it himself, every Pokémon was a great one to him. He found the creatures fascinating—entrancing, even. They held a mysterious aura that couldn't be displaced. Why, while everyone wouldn't even count it as a battling Pokémon, Damion would be happy to receive a Magikarp. He enjoyed watching the interesting red fish as it flopped around, whipping its whiskers through the air.

Education-wise, Damion had learned as much as an academy graduate from Aliana in about a year. Technically, it hadn't been a full year, what with the on-and-off lessons due to her constant visits to her family and other relations. Furthermore, he hadn't even been given lessons—he had just listened while she treated the different Pokémon in her breeding center. But the result was the same: he was still a child with just as great, if not better, training as the rest of the children who became Trainers.

Bright in both mind and personality, Damion truly was an ideal child. He had his own happy aura, affecting those around him and making them smile. It wasn't just his aura, but his actions as well; he showed kindness, respect, discipline, and everything else a parent could want from a child.

But it wasn't enough. Something was missing, even though he tried his best to hide it behind a jovial mask. He still longed for company. Family was out of the question; he was an only child, after all. He wasn't aware of any relatives either, or at least any who would have time to deal with him.

Either way, he was alone in the house on a rainy day, left with nothing to do but stare out the window. The rain continued to pour, making an almost soothing rhythm. It still didn't help his boredom, but instead lulled him into sleep.

His eyes drooped as his body began to fall asleep. There was no point in staying awake, he knew, but he could always do something more productive. Wasn't that the point of being a child: to learn as much as you could before you had to use that knowledge?

_Bam_.

He jerked out of his half-sleep. The sound had come from the door. Was it a robber? A salesman? He wasn't sure which one was worse. Cautiously, he edged towards the door. He nearly slipped over some scattered toys. When he finally reached the door, he peered through the peephole.

"Oi, Damion, I'm not gonna stand here all day you know."

Warmth enveloped him as it always did when he heard her voice. He felt a flush in his face as he grinned from ear to ear. It was hard to contain himself as he reached for the doorknob.

"I'll open it in a sec!" he answered, voice shaking with a bit of laughter.

She stood there on the porch, shaking the water off of her black umbrella. The light jacket she wore looked worn out, frayed with age. Its black color contrasted with her light brown hair, in such a way that it was complementing. She never seemed to try, but she always looked amazing, like a goddess of Pokémon.

Damion blinked. He was starting to find his friend a bit frightening, with her perfection.

The young teenager's golden eyes glittered with amusement as she smiled at him. "Took you long enough! I was about to give up and go back to the ranch."

"And leave me behind?" Damion asked indignantly.

"Well, you could've answered sooner," she argued, putting on an annoyed tone. Despite this, she playfully ruffled his hair with her warm hand, a smile spreading across her face. "Are your parents out?"

"Mm." He backed away from the door, giving her space to walk inside. "Did you come to play?"

"Play? Nah." She beamed at him before he could start feeling depressed. "I'm here to hang out. It's a bit different, you know?"

"I know," he answered, grinning.

The two walked into the house, dodging around the same scattered toys as before. Aliana glanced around, making Damion wonder what she was thinking about.

As it turned out, he didn't need to wonder.

"You know, Damion, I've heard from your parents that you're going to move soon."

The warmth he felt in his body went a bit colder. His smile faded. "Mmhmm."

"To Pallet Town, right?"

He nodded.

"Well, that's really convenient!"

They reached the living room, where Aliana promptly sat down on one of the couches. Damion sat opposite her, pouting. "I don't really want to go, though," he said sheepishly, embarrassed to admit it.

"Well, nobody really likes to move," she pointed out. He nodded in agreement. "But Pallet Town is where my family lives. You're a lot like my little brother; I think you'd get along well."

"Your little brother?" She had mentioned him before, Damion remembered, but he didn't recall any names.

"Yeah." Her eyes took that faraway look that he saw so commonly on her face. She was probably thinking about something serious, as her smile was replaced by a frown. "He's a unique child, that one."

"How so?"

"You wouldn't understand."

He sighed. She often brushed him off like that: "You wouldn't understand," "maybe when you're older," "it's a bit complicated"... It got frustrating after a while, but he learned to handle it.

Aliana's eyes seemed to change color in the light for a moment, flashing a brilliant blue. It happened quite often, and according to her, her brother was similar—at least in terms of odd eye color. The only difference was that his eyes remained a single color. He tried to remember which one, but no colors came to mind.

He looked up, noticing Aliana staring at him intently. Her golden eyes shone with an almost blissful light. A strand of hair lay across her face. It fluttered, despite there being no wind.

"Damion, we've got one week before you leave for Pallet Town. But after that one week..." She broke off.

"You'll have to go?" he questioned softly.

She appraised him with her eyes. "Yes."

"Then...can you train me? In one week, can you train me to become a Trainer?"

The rain splashed outside, a suddenly strong downpour causing the water to scatter. The windows were stained with the liquid sorrow.

Aliana watched the boy for a few moments, her expression unreadable. Finally, she cracked into a smile. "All right. I'll train you to be the strongest Trainer—even greater than Michael."


	3. Yuki

Some may argue that the most amazing children are those who know how to contain themselves, who know that there's a time to speak and a time to keep silent. These children are, sadly, not the most active, and it is due to the influence of those around them that they do not develop to what may be called their "potential."

These types of children often have troublesome growths. They may develop an intelligence and philosophical view on the world that conflict with that of their parents. They may grow into the greatest of authors, with a pure talent at writing—that nothing can stop. There's even the possibility that one may become lost in the realm of silence, having not experienced what a child should learn: how to have fun, and the "meaning of life."

-.-.-

**When I was a kid, I was always different from the rest.**

Snow does not make sound, yet Yuki could have sworn she could hear the sound of the heavily falling ice crystals. Living in _Kissaki _City did that to you, she supposed.

While she would have lovedto jump out of bed, instead of acting so immaturely, she _slowly _pulled the blanket off of herself, turned _delicately_ towards the rest of her room, and got up in a _ladylike _manner. She then undressed _carefully_, folded up her clothes _tidily_, changed into a more _sophisticated _attire, and then _mannerfully _opened her door.

Not that that stopped her from running straight into Rokuta, though.

"Ow, ow, ow..." she mumbled in a completely unladylike manner, holding a hand to her face. She glanced up at the man, noting that the surprise on his face was probably reflected on hers. "Rokuta, what are you doing here?"

"_Me_?" asked the man in English. He caught himself and repeated the word in Japanese. "I just came back to visit, of course. Am I not your bodyguard?"

"I thought you were busy on your..._E.A._ business?" she asked, struggling to get out the English letters without an accent. "What is _E.A._, anyway?"

"The _E.A._?" Rokuta paused in a way that Yuki knew he was wondering what to say. "Well, er...that is to say..._Extreme...Athlete_," he said in English, and then repeated the term in his native language. "It's a sort of committee for uh...Pokémon...training..."

"Eh, is that so?" Yuki asked, putting on an extremely sarcastic tone. "Well then, I suppose you're too busy _training _to be my bodyguard?"

"Um...yeah." He flicked his eyes away in a manner that clearly stated _If I say what I want to, I'll just get lectured. _"So, Ms. Migato_—_"

"_Yuki_," she corrected instantly."

"—your mother and father have left me to take care of you today. They told me specifically not to let you outside the house and play in the snow."

"So that's why we're going to?"

"Exactly." He gave her a rare smile. "And, of course, it's much better for a growing girl to actually get some exercise. You'll get fat if you don't."

Yuki _hmph_ed at the remark. "I will not."

"You definitely will," he answered, pinching her cheek lightly with his hand. His hand was warm against her cold skin, though that didn't help the sensation of the tugging on her face. "See?"

"T-that's just...I need at least a little!" she said in protest. "Let's just go play outside, okay?"

"As you ask." The amusement in his voice only further embarrassed her. "Do be sure to wear a coat, gloves, a hat, and a scarf. We wouldn't want you to get a cold."

"I won't, I won't!" she said cheerfully, rushing back into her room to find the winter equipment with both excitement and a desire to escape embarrassment.

As far as rooms and children go, Yuki's was frighteningly clean. The room was quite large, as it was twice as high as the fully-grown, taller-than-average Rokuta who had just walked in. The bed, which was quite easily a queen-size, look positively miniscule compared to the rest of the room. The blankets were neatly arranged, and the floor void of any misplaced objects. The drawer in the far side of the room was of a heavy wood, so Yuki could only just manage to open it on her own. She pulled out a pair of thicker socks.

As she pulled them on, Rokuta walked up to her, holding her coat. Yuki took it from him with a quick _thanks_, and pulled it on, along with the rest of her warm clothing. With it on, she was starting to feel uncomfortably hot in the room, though she knew that outside would cool her down quickly.

"I'd love to go through the window, but sadly, your parents seem to have locked them," Rokuta said, with sincere wistfulness in his voice. He glanced at the glass. "And while I could break it, I don't think your parents would appreciate that."

"Please don't," Yuki squeaked.

"I won't," he promised. He muttered something under his breath that distinctly sounded like Y_et_. "Well, let's go down the stairs, then."

The Migato manor was like a maze. Right outside Yuki's door was the staircase—however, even if the descent was simple, finding the exit wasn't. Even she, who had grown up in the building, had trouble finding her way around it.

It was with difficulty that they found the front entrance, making Yuki wonder how Rokuta had ever found her bedroom. Either way, all thoughts were forgotten when she stepped out out of the wooden oak door and into the land of snow.

_Kissaki _City was, without a doubt, one of the coldest places in the world. _Shin'__ō_was already renowned as the coldest of the regions, but _Kissaki _City seemed to truly be the "point of snow," as it was called in English.

"_Snowpoint City_," Rokuta said in English, as if he were on a wavelength with her. "Indeed, a beautiful city. A shame your parents are so uptight."

Yuki smiled. "It really is pretty, isn't it?"

Particles of the white dust littered from the skies, gathering onto the ground in heaps. It was a heavy fall, yet somehow light as well: there was enough snow for it to be considered a blizzard, yet the weather itself was calm. The frozen water landed lightly on the roofs of houses in the distance.

The young girl could see children in the far distance—children such as herself, both young and playful. They were making an army of snowmen, though no matter how hard they tried, more snow kept falling. It brought a laugh to her lips, and she let it out without hesitation.

Rokuta, she sensed, understood her amusement. He, too, smiled, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Well, I'm no big group of friends, but I could release a few."

At the word _release_, Yuki perked up. She turned towards him, eyes wide with excitement. "You mean...?"

The man answered by reaching towards his belt. He pulled three of the small ping-pong ball-sized Poké Balls from their holds before throwing them into the air. The metal spheres glistened in the glow of the afternoon sun, shining like the freshly fallen snow. With a press of their center buttons, they each expanded into a ball roughly the size of a baseball.

With a flick of his wrist, Rokuta tossed them into the air. They soared straight up, so perfectly that Yuki was afraid they would fall back down and hit the man straight onto his black-haired head. Instead, though, they popped open with an unknown force. The creatures inside were released in the form of energy and a burst of white light, though they quickly solidified into their normal figures as they hit the ground. Rokuta caught the falling orbs as they fell with a quick swipe through the air, somehow managing to hit the buttons, returning them to their former size, in a mere moment. He returned the Pokéballs to his belt just as the light from the Pokémon faded.

Before her stood three majestic beings, each seeming to emit pure power. Each were a sight to behold, as all were rare Pokémon in the _Shin'ō _region.

The first was a _Dodaitose_, large as a car, and built like a tank. The small forest-like environment on the huge Pokémon's back held a single tree, which had burn marks coloring its bark. His rather round head was edged with a black beak-like mouth, and two steel horns protruded from either side of his head. Upon being released, he immediately turned to his two companions and began talking in a low, yet fast voice.

The second was a _Zoroark_. Her sleek, black-and-gray fur covered her feline body, giving her the image of a fox of the night. She stood lithely on two legs, and while normal _Zoroark_ had red or orange claws, hers were a midnight black. Her red mane, colored with black tips, was as graceful as the rest of her.

The third was a _Erureido_. He stood alone, leaning back on one of his white legs while crossing his green arms, which looked rather uncomfortable due to the red, horn-like protrusions on his chest and back. The arms, shaped rather like tonfas, were actually blade-like weapons, capable of retracting and extending simply at the Pokémon's will. He inclined his head towards Yuki, his strangely blue eyes glinting.

All three were powerful, Yuki knew. They could probably match that of any Gym Leader in the _Shin'__ō _region. And yet, oddly enough, here she was about to play with them in the snow.

"Well, Miss Migato, this would be a good time to begin," Rokuta said, smiling.

"_Eru_," Erureido said. His confident smile reassured Yuki, and he opened a mental link with her to translate. "_What would you like to do_?"

"_Zoro_?" Zoroark asked. Erureido quickly translated: "_Snowball fights_?"

"_Hey, that sounds awesome_!"Dodaitose answered. Yuki noticed how she could understand him directly, unlike Zoroark. "_Oh, wanna split into teams_?"

"Well, does it really matter how we do this?" Rokuta asked, apparently able to hear the mental conversation as well. "As long as we're together, that's good enough."

'_That's right_,' Yuki thought. '_As long as we're together, everything's all right_.'

Or so she thought.


	4. Anger

Then, one may ask, what makes a human a child? Children are those who require guidance, the ones who we need to help so that they can make a choice. Even so, you cannot call an aged man a child. With age comes experience, with experience comes wisdom, with wisdom comes understanding, and with understanding comes adulthood. Those who have aged but have not yet gained experience are those who have not yet found adventure in their life.

Thus, the reverse is also true. There are some children who have gained wisdom, who have experienced far more than adults. Even if you say a young one cannot be classified as an adult, some children have surpassed the age gap between them and their elders. A child is only a child so long as he retains his innocence and needs the assistance of others.

-.-.-

With every pump of his heart, a pang of pain filled his head. The incessant pounding was what told him to stop, and he gladly complied, tossing the pencil onto the wooden desk, scattering papers, and dropping anything else. He felt like he needed one of those medicine pills—Tyrogue-ol? He rested his head on the face of the desk, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the pain. It was like someone was trying to drill a hole into his skull, the pain was so intense.

Derek stood up, rather shakily, pushing the chair out of the way and reaching for the door. The only thing he could think of was getting some water to drink to cool himself down. It felt as if he didn't get something cold he would explode from the pangs of pain in his head. Then again, it would probably be better to drink something warm and get some ice on the forehead, he told himself as he twisted open the doorknob.

He stepped out onto the wooden floor of the hallway, trudging towards the staircase and nearly tripping over the glossy (and probably recently waxed) floor. Sounds of explosions and cheesy dialogue further aggravated him as he reached the bottom of the staircase. He cast a look towards the source: the television. The four-year-old Jane had somehow managed to turn it on and find the worst possible TV show for him in his condition, and he had no idea what it was. The sounds made his head pound further, making him grit his teeth in irritation.

"Derek?"

"Shut the hell up. I'm not in the mood," he snapped, not even glancing at the girl lying on the couch as he walked through the living room. He held a hand to his head, trying to massage his head and relieve the pain a bit. "And turn the volume down."

The girl turned back towards the television, or at least he guessed so from the creaking of the couch. He walked past the counter that separated the living room from the kitchen and grabbed a mug from the cupboard—only to feel a wave of anger and pain flow through him as the sounds of explosions grew _explosively _louder.

He turned towards the girl watching the TV, who was staring back with wide, innocent eyes. A growl of anger escaped from between his teeth. "Shut. That. Thing. Off. _Now_."

She smiled at him with a toothy grin. "Why?"

'_That's it_,' he told himself. '_I'm not taking this anymore_.'

A shocking pain in his right hand made him wince, momentarily halting him. He glanced down, noticing for the first time how tightly he was grasping the handle of the cup. With difficulty, he managed to force his fingers to unclench.

He would have left her alone if she had stopped there. But she went and turned up the volume even higher.

Something snapped. He knew he was moving, he knew he was shouting, but he had no idea what. All he felt was anger—pure anger, even _hatred _towards this girl. She got everything; all the toys, the benefits, the luxuries, the expense, the _love _and _recognition—_and for what?

What did _she _ever do?

The cup shattered. He had no idea how. Had he thrown it? Had it shattered in his hand? All he knew was that blood was spilling from his right hand palm, and that pieces of the shattered mug lay on the wood of the floor, colored by a crimson liquid.

He looked up wearily, hands shaking. The girl in front of him, lying on the couch, was crying. There was no satisfaction in the action. There was no relief, no guilt, no sorrow or hate. All he felt was empty, as if he had just exhausted himself.

A sudden dizziness took ahold of him. He nearly fell over, but he managed to walk forward and grab a roll of paper towels. It wasn't until he pulled a few sheets off that he noticed his hand was soaking through the material, coloring it a bloody red. He was bleeding. A lot.

It was just his luck that his mother walked in at that very moment. She cast one look at the bloody hand of the boy, the broken mug, and the crying Jane, before beginning to shout. The words didn't make any sense to him; his head felt blank, as if enveloped in a sort of darkness. He wanted to move, to fight, to scream, to cause suffering and pain to someone else—anything but this nothingness.

The only words that _did _reach him were: "Michael and Aliana wouldn't do something like this."

The pain in his right hand doubled on the spot. He began to shake out of pure fury; she didn't care about him at all—he was just a tool, a shadow, a copy of her perfect children. He was nothing to her, nothing but a thing that she could use. The angrier he got, the more his hand seemed to hurt, until it felt like his hand would be cut in half by the pain.

"Shut _up_!" he shouted, delusional in the swallowing darkness. He glared at his mother—no, the _monster _in front of him, shaking with an outrage he had never felt before. "Why do you never—"

A hand on his shoulder made him jump, recoil. He turned, ready to lash out with his anger, ready to fight whoever dared to so much as get near him—but he halted. In front of him stood someone he had never expected to see, one of the only people who showed so much as a trace of recognition towards Derek.

"Calm down. You're letting your emotions get the better of you," Setsora said simply. He knelt by the boy's side, his crimson eyes inspecting the injury as he took Derek's hand. The boy closed his eyes, too afraid to look into his uncle's. "Most kids your age would be crying in pain. Getting angry is no better, though."

Derek cracked open his eyes a tiny bit. "It's—"

"Not your fault," the man agreed, nodding his head. A lock of his brown hair, the same color as Derek's, shadowed Setsora's eyes, which gave Derek the courage to open his eyes completely. "Still, you could have more control over your emotions."

The boy said nothing, blinking back tears. He could feel the sincerity of the man in front of him, yet he felt a horrible sinking feeling as he heard his own mother behind him comfort the bratty, crying child instead of him. He couldn't help but wince, though, when he felt the white cloth wrap around his hand. The man's motions were hardly gentle, and every action seemed to shout out "This is your own fault."

"Selena," Setsora said, still studying Derek's hand, despite the gauze covering the wound. "Is Michael here yet?"

"Michael?" the woman echoed, confused. "He's coming? Here?"

"It's what we planned." The man pressed his palm against Derek's, which made the boy jump; it felt like an electric current had just passed between their two hands. His eyes seemed to black out for a moment, as the area of vision around his hands darkened. Setsora then let go, dusted his hands off, and stood up. "How about Aliana?"

The crying of Jane seemed to have ceased, Derek noticed. It was when he noticed that when he noticed she wasn't there in the first place; she had probably left to shut herself in her room. He almost smiled out of spite, though the pain of everything that had happened still weighed him down. Still, the mention of his older sister lifted his spirits...a bit.

His mother shook her head, apparently ignoring the existence of her son. "I would have heard from either of them."

"Hmm." Setsora glanced around. His eyes seemed to linger on the broken cup and bloody floor a split second longer than it did on anything else. "You might want to clean that up, Selena. Derek, you should go to your room."

The boy stood up shakily, so nervous that he couldn't make a noise louder than a whimper. He rushed off, jumping up the flight of stairs and running straight through his door, shutting it behind him. It took him a while to notice how badly he was shivering, and a bit longer to realize that the pain was completely gone from his hand.

He lay down on his bed, closing his head. He wiped away the tears from his eyes in frustration, trying hard not to start sobbing. There was something wrong with him—and he needed to figure out what.


	5. Excitement

So then, what makes a human an adult? Wisdom is not the answer, as not all aged men have gained wisdom. To become an adult, you must have obtained knowledge and experience about the world around you. But not just this; you must have attained the ability to comprehend and understand this knowledge and experience.

Thus is the separation of child and adult. But still, that leaves one question: what of those who have aged, but have not gained this ability? They are not children, yet not adults, either. Perhaps it is safe to call them immature, rather than to put them in a completely different category. Immature adults, those who have not yet gained, or will never gain, the ability to comprehend their own experience.

-.-.-

"Hm...in this situation, you gotta think on your feet."

"But Ms. Aliana, even you just said that you can't do that!"

"Look, Damion, you're brighter than me. You can do it!"

The boy pouted. He appreciated the compliment, but still, it wasn't too great to be acknowledged by someone vastly superior to you. It felt like being pampered, almost. He was starting to feel guilty. "But I..."

"No!" she snapped. "Just do it!"

Damion turned towards the Geodude. "Use a...um...Rock Throw attack!"

"Sevi, Iron Tail!"

The Jolteon quickly smashed through the rocks with a shining tail, sending rubble sailing across the grassy fields. A cloud of dust burst from the force of the attack. Almost immediately after, with a flash of speed, she knocked the Geodude aside with the same attack, knocking it into the wall with a painful _crack_. The Geodude fell to the ground, dazed.

Aliana sighed, running a dissatisfied hand through her hair. "Maybe we're going too fast-pace."

"But Sevi's the fastest Pokémon _on _this ranch! Of course we're going too fast," Damion groaned.

"No complaining!"

"Fine, let's get going again, then!" he grumbled.

He wasn't actually angry at her, or Sevi. It was just too embarrassing to show his enthusiasm for some reason, so he'd rather pretend to be agitated. Besides, how could he hate Sevi? She was one of his favorite Pokémon—except when she decided to pounce on him. He recalled too many painful memories of times she did that.

"Geodude, use Rollout!" he called out to the Pokémon. He watched as it curled into a small ball before beginning to roll. It plowed through the earth with a vengeance, rushing towards the Jolteon with astounding speed.

Still, Sevi was not to be underestimated. She easily sidestepped the attack, despite how fast the Geodude was moving, and, in a single instant, smashed it in the side with a simple Quick Attack. It was amazing, even if he didn't get how it had happened.

Curiosity overtook him. "What'd she do?" he asked, watching as the Geodude flew towards him. He caught it in arms, though he almost felt as if his arms snapped from the weight. Letting go, Damion watched as the Geodude hit the ground with a thud, unconscious.

"Sevi?" Aliana asked. When Damion nodded, she simply answered, "She matched that little guy's rotation with her own. Sorta like when you hit a soccer ball with another, both bounce off each other. So, she just used equal force and repelled him."

"Oh! I get it," Damion said, grinning. "So like...the same thing to stop both?"

"Good, good. That's exactly right," Aliana approved. "Still, you gotta think on your feet, Damion. Using Rollout was smart, but you should've ordered another attack when Geodude was knocked into the air."

"But there's nothing Geodude could've used in the air," Damion complained.

"Not true! You could've ordered a Smack Down attack, or a Stone Edge."

"I don't know either of those moves," the boy _hmph_ed, trying to retain a bit of dignity. It was only a moment later that he realized it only showed he didn't know much about Pokémon.

"Well then, now you do. Let's move on to Water and Fire-types, all right?"

"Okay!" he agreed. Damion had been eagerly waiting for this lesson, since he truly admired Aliana's Blastoise, Dosei. It was also great to see Fire-types, as he thought they were some of the coolest Pokémon ever. Especially Charizard, and Arcanine, and Rapidash even.

"Well, how about we get Dosei and Zeal out then, huh?" Aliana said, returning the Geodude to its Pokéball. Sevi walked over to Aliana, leaning against her leg.

"Zeal?" Damion repeated in confusion. "You had another Pokémon?"

"Of course! You know Sevi laid an egg recently, right?"

Damion nodded. He had seen the egg just that day.

"Well, Zeal's the father. A Flareon."

The boy nearly fell over in surprise. "Why didn't I ever get to see him?" he demanded. His voice changed from demanding to admiration in an instant. "That's so cool!"

"Zeal's pretty protective of Sevi, so he never even left their little nest," she remarked, laughing slightly. "Zeal and Sevi take turns watching the egg nowadays, so we can switch now."

"Awesome!"

"Very," Aliana agreed cheerfully.

She led them inside the ranch, passing by various rooms and displays of eggs. In one of the rooms, Damion could have sworn he saw a Dragonite, but he knew even Aliana would have difficulty raising one of those. He shook the thought away, probably imagining it.

Still, excitement filled him, as it did every time he stepped into Aliana's home. The creaking wood, the glossy walls, the shining trophies and awards—they were all amazing to the young boy. It was a fantasy world, a dream house; it was a sort of place he would want to live in. A perfect house, with perfect accommodations.

"How's it going, Zeal?"

Damion looked up. She had led them into a small room, decorated with flame-like decorations on the wall. It was so realistic, Damion practically shivered in a mixture of anticipation and worry when he touched the walls, afraid he was going to burn himself. Aliana, noticing this, laughed quietly. The boy hid his embarrassment, kneeling down to take a better look at the Flareon.

Zeal was, quite literally, burning with energy. A presence that felt like flames, in contrast to Zeal's sparky enthusiasm, overtook the boy. Rather like stepping into a humid area, Zeal's power seemed to envelop him in a warm blanket. It was an exciting strength, encouraging Damion to work harder. He wasn't sure why, though.

"C'mon Zeal," Aliana said. She, too, was kneeling. She held out a hand to the Flareon, and received a paw-five in return. He got up, nuzzled against Sevi, and then jumped onto Damion's shoulder, shocking the boy so badly he nearly fell over. Aliana laughed at the boy's reaction. "Don't worry, he doesn't bite." She paused. "Well, except when he's hungry."

"I think you should feed him then," Damion said. He had tried to groan, but Zeal trying to chew his hair off was making him laugh too much. "Hey, stop that!"

Zeal continued his antics, gaining laughter from both Damion and Sevi. Aliana, on the other hand, had gotten up, holding her phone. Damion looked up at the sound of the ringtone, and watched as Aliana snapped open the flip phone.

"Uncle Tsukinouse?" Aliana asked, a look of surprise flitting across her face. Zeal and Sevi both stopped playing around, looking up at their owner as if this uncle of Aliana's was a person they knew was important. Damion stopped laughing as well, watching with curiosity. "No, I haven't heard from him."

Damion could barely hear what the other person was saying, though the fact he could hear at all surprised him. The voice sounded sort of angry, which led Damion to believe the man was shouting.

"All right, all right. I'll call him. Why don't you call him yourself?" Aliana listened to the other end for a few seconds. "That idiot...You want me to use _that_? It's tiring, you know."

This time, Damion could have sworn he heard the words "Are you kidding me?"

Aliana's lips pulled into a frown. "Well, I'll do it. How's he doing, by the way?" Damion could see Aliana's expression change from slightly annoyed to worried. "Why? Is it happening again?"

Damion noticed Sevi and Zeal were exchanging soundless conversations with each other, somehow communicating through smalls bursts of electricity and flames. At one point, Sevi's fur sparked dangerously, as if Zeal had said something that offended her. The Flareon shook his head, in an apologetic gesture.

"I never wanted to do this in the first place," Aliana groaned. "What about Rokuta and his candidate? Is she a possibility?" A small moment of silence. Then: "Fine, whatever. We can group them up later, I suppose. But that comes later—don't you dare get any ideas in his head. He'll actually _use _them, unlike me or Mike."

Zeal shivered, as if the name "Mike" brought up bad memories. Even Sevi seemed to sober up, her fur lowering in seconds. Damion wasn't sure what was happening, but it was definitely...weird. Even he felt a strange shiver down his spine at the mention of the great Trainer Michael.

"The E.A. isn't strong enough yet. After all, since Ryder quit..." Hesitation. "No." A pause. "I doubt that—Zeal, Sevi, stop it already!" Aliana snapped, casting an irritated look towards her two Pokémon. They glanced up at her, and, apparently scared of their master's glare, lay down on the ground silently, ending their conversation. "Anyway. I'll talk to Mike, so just get out of the house, okay? He's got enough stress on his mind, and I'm busy. And before you deny it, it _is _your fault for planning all this."

She snapped the phone shut, a scowl Damion had never seen before on her face. She turned towards Damion, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Sorry about that. My uncle is a bit of a complex man."

Damion laughed, though his heart wasn't in it. "I know what you mean. My parents are pretty tiring too."

She gave him a weary smile. "Yeah. It's only a few more days until you have to move, so we really have to get a move on. C'mon Zeal, let's go."


	6. Doubt

So how is it exactly that people find the meaning of life? What is this meaning to life? All humans die—in fact, it is because we die that we can appreciate life. Without death, there is no life. Without life, there cannot be death. So is the meaning of life to die? Or is it to do the most we can with our lives, before we pass on?

Those under the religion of the gods, or the God, would argue that life is a test, and that death is the "submitting" of this test. The immortal(s) then sends you to your appropriate afterlife, based on how you acted in your life. But this test can sometimes be cut short, by others who take away your life, or when you die at a young age. What of those people? And what happens to those who believe that...

-.-.-

Yuki wasn't the type to eavesdrop. Rokuta knew that, which was probably why he had been so free to make a phone call in the hallway right outside her door. With the door closed, there was no way she could hear him speaking, anyway. Besides, he trusted her not to eavesdrop.

So of course she was going to eavesdrop.

Ever so gently, she opened the door just a crack—just enough that she could hear what he was saying. It was hard, at first, but the closer she leaned in towards the door, the louder Rokuta's voice got, until she could hear him perfectly. The only problem would be deciphering what the person on the other side was saying.

"Setsora, huh?" There was a pause from Rokuta. "Yes, I'm watching out for them. I've heard news of Shouten making a move in _Issh__u—_have you seen anything about him?"

Yuki blinked; she didn't know any of these people, or what _Isshu _was. And who were "they"?

"I wouldn't say that. Besides, if we're talking about your family, they're sure to do a good job training those two." Rokuta's voice changed to a bit more of a friendly tone. "Have you heard from Michael about the news on that Emily kid?" Something on the other end made Rokuta laugh. "Yes, it seems he's been troubled quite a bit by her."

A sudden shout, just loud enough that Yuki could hear a tiny bit, burst from the phone. It sounded awfully like "This isn't the time for that!"

"Either way," Rokuta said, his voice regaining its serious edge, "how about the youngest child—does she fit his requirements? And what of that child of the old researcher?" A pause, then: "All right. That clears five of the six, doesn't it? Who's the last child?"

Yuki could hear Rokuta's foot start to tap. She recognized the habit: he did it whenever he was agitated.

A sudden switch to English threw her off. "That's not true. The E.A.'s actions have been irregular, ever since Ryder...Yes, I know that. But it doesn't make a difference at this point. We need to—he's _what_!"

The shout made Yuki jump. She nearly collided with the door, which would have given her away. Luckily, Rokuta didn't seem to hear the slight creaking of the wood, and continued to talk on the phone.

"And you didn't tell me this?" A sharp sound made Yuki wince; Rokuta must have slapped a hand to his face. "Arceus...Does she know about this? How long has it been?" A sigh. "And the dagger? ...No, I wouldn't say so. Are they still using them?"

Yuki could hear footsteps, coming in her direction. Alarmed, she closed the door and ran to her bed, just managing to sit down and pretend she was playing with her hair as it reopened, revealing Rokuta still holding his phone to his ear.

"Immunities won't save you forever," Rokuta warned. Then, back in Japanese, he finished, "Good luck, my friend," and hung up.

The young girl looked up at him innocently. "Is something wrong?"

Rokuta shook his head, though the action didn't fool her. "Just learned something a bit odd about my friend."

"And what would that be?" she asked, thirsty for information. There were so many questions she had, yet she had to tread carefully.

"Apparently, he passed on some of his skills to his nephew." Rokuta gave her a frown. "It's not all that great news, really, but it might help him in the future."

"How so?"

"It's something that's going to help him as a Trainer," Rokuta said simply. Gazing at her, he asked suddenly, "By the way, has anybody ever come to visit while I wasn't here?"

Yuki blinked. "Have you been expecting someone?"

He nodded. "One of my friend's relatives was supposed to come by and get me up to speed with some of the things I've missed while I was around here." He shrugged. "You know, my old gang of friends. I've been a bit too busy to go see them; being with you is a tiring task."

She smiled. "Though I always appreciate it."

"And I'm always here to serve," Rokuta remarked.

Silence filled the room, save for the ticking of the clock on the wall. Yuki kept her face plain, despite her want to frown. She wanted to ask so many questions, yet all of them would reveal she had been eavesdropping—and that was no good. It wouldn't help if Rokuta got mad at her, and even then, he would just dismiss it as a misheard conversation.

'_No_,' she decided—she would have to find out her own way.

-.-.-

She took it upon herself to follow Rokuta everywhere after that. Any time he received a call, she listened in, though she never heard him get a call from the man from before. It was starting to bug her, how she couldn't figure out what Rokuta was hiding from her; she felt it was important, even if she didn't know why.

Unfortunately, the time came when she listened in on something way too big a problem.

It was at night, the day before the first of December, and she had been listening to Rokuta explain some of the fundamentals of being a Trainer. Of course, she listened eagerly; it was much better than hearing about how to follow proper etiquette, and what was formal behavior. Rokuta had been called on by Yuki's father, so he left her with a Poké Ball, telling her to use it in case something happened.

Instead of being a good girl, like he wanted, Yuki followed him a few moments after he left, making sure to be as quiet as she could. She kept him in viewing distance, but made sure to only cross hallways when he had advanced to the next one around the corner.

Eventually, they reached the staircase. Rokuta, instead of going up to Yuki's father's office, went down the stairs—a place Yuki had been forbidden to go. He walked down the stairs silently, with Yuki following in his shadow.

The stairs were unusually long. They twisted and turned, resulting in a spiral-like staircase, which was perfect for Yuki, as she could hide behind each corner. When they reached the bottom of the staircase, Yuki was forced to stop at the last corner; the stairs led directly into a large room. She could barely see what was inside from where she stood, but the floor was stone, and the shadows were long and eerie, like those from torchlight. She crouched on the step, careful to stay out of the way, in case Rokuta looked back.

"Rokuta Shiyuuki," a gruff voice greeted, echoing across the room. Yuki recognized it as her father's.

"Master Migato," Rokuta responded, his voice toneless. "What is it that you've called me for?"

"Sit down, Shiyuuki," he answered. Despite him talking normally, the echos multiplied the volume, to the point it sounded almost like a shout. "We have something to discuss."

"As you wish," Rokuta said.

There was a sound of wood against stone, then the muffled thud. Then: "It has come to my attention that you have been filling my young daughter's mind with thoughts of those...Pocket Monsters of yours. Tell me: Why have you done this?"

"Master Migato, I did no such thing intentionally. I simply did what I thought would be necessary to keep the young master happy and well." Rokuta's voice gained a rather sharp edge as he said, "Was that not what you asked me to do?"

"I asked you to keep her well, yes, but I also clearly stated that you would not _intoxicate _her with the thoughts of these creatures!" the man bellowed, his shout reverberating through the room a hundred times.

When silence returned to the room, Rokuta said calmly, "I have done no such thing. I have shown her something that I enjoy—whether she enjoys it or not is up to her. I have simply shown her a path that she can take if she chooses to take it."

"I will not allow my daughter to take such a foolish career path. Training such creatures is not just dangerous, but a waste of time as well. I will _not _let her become a waste of time and effort!"

"Are you implying that I have been wasting my life on this _foolish _career path, Master Migato?" Rokuta asked, his voice colder than ice. "I work for you, as you hired me, but I will not take insult to my loyal Pokémon, nor my choice of life."

"That's the reason we're here," Yuki's father answered. "I want you to leave, to never return to this town. You will tell my daughter that you are leaving on your _journey_-" He spat this word out. "-and that you will not be returning. You will then receive your final payment for your services, and not come back."

"So you're firing me, are you, Master Migato?" Rokuta's had regained its lack of tone. "I would reconsider that approach on this situation, if I were you."

"And why's that?"

A screech from the stone floor resounded through the room like the wail of a lost child, sending a jolt of shock through Yuki's still body. She nearly gasped out loud in surprise, her heart flailing frantically. It took her a few moments to comprehend Rokuta's next few words:

"Shouten is near."

The soft tap of shoes against the stone alerted the young girl of the approaching man. She began running up the stairs, hearing Rokuta's footsteps draw closer. It was difficult to run without making a noise, but somehow she managed it. With a racing heart, she reached where she had been sitting before, and lay there on the couch, head down to hide her expression. When the footsteps of Rokuta finally reached the room, Yuki still couldn't help the cold chill in her body.

"Ms. Migato," Rokuta said simply. The shifting of the cushions told her that he had sat down next to her. "What do you say to leaving this house behind?"


	7. Sibling

That life simply isn't worth living?

-.-.-

"Derek."

"Come in," he grumbled, glad to have an excuse to put down the pencil. He glanced at the door, watching the doorknob twist and turn. Finally, the wooden prison bars opened, revealing Setsora. Derek blinked, surprised. "Uncle?"

"Is the cut all right?" he asked simply, walking in, not bothering to close the door behind him. His face showed a blank indifference, as if he couldn't care less about Derek's injury.

The boy frowned. "It's fine. I don't plan on leaving this room any time soon, though, if that's why you're here. Can you close the door?"

Setsora stared at him. "You remind me of your brother," he remarked.

"Why, thank you. I love being compared to an asshole," Derek snapped, turning away from him. "Did you come up here just to say that?"

"You have a temper that you should fix," Setsora noted, his voice still bland and void of any emotion. "I came here to tell you about something."

"And what's that?" Derek questioned, still not looking at him.

"You should probably stay in your room," he said simply. He took a step back, disappearing from out of the door frame. The sound of clinking metal indicated him grasping the doorknob again.

Derek noticed this. "Wait a second. Why?"

His uncle paused. Instead of walking back into the room, he answered in a toneless voice, "Michael's coming sooner or later," and closed the door.

Derek let out a _tch_, leaning back in his chair and turning away from the closed door. He stared at the wall, a scowl worming its way onto his face. He could feel his mood slowly become sour at the mere thought of that man being in the house. It sickened him, really.

He picked up his pencil, gazing at the dull tip in boredom. Twirling it between his fingers, he considered getting up and locking his door. After a few moments of self-discussion, he decided against it; there was no way that Michael would dare come up to his room. And if he did, it would be to his regret when he found a pencil stuck in his neck.

A sudden disgust filled Derek, causing him to toss the pencil at the wall. He really had to stop doing that: the wall was already marked with dozens of ink marks and graphite stains that had accumulated over the years. A pain rang through his right hand, almost as if reacting to his dark mood. It only further aggravated him, remembering the events of yesterday.

'_Whatever_,' he told himself, standing up suddenly. The chair was knocked back by the movement, nearly falling over. Derek walked around it, not bothering to grab it himself, letting it fall back into place on its own. Instead, he jumped onto his bed, resting an arm over his eyes and the other over his stomach in one of his favorite positions.

The lack of things to do only gave him more time to think. Hundreds of things popped into his mind, but he pushed them away, finding each and every one trivial. Pokémon statistics tended to get boring after the first twenty seconds, and memorizing them was more tedious than doing any household chore.

Then again, it wasn't like he would have much experience with that. The only chore he had was keeping his room clean—and he only did that to pretend he had a chore. It was one of the only things he could distract himself with that wasn't studying, other than drawing and staring out the window. And both of those tended to get boring just as quickly as studying.

He sighed. It was so tiring, he wondered if he should just open the window, jump down two stories, and run away. Nobody would even notice, probably; the only person who would actually recognize him if he left his house would probably be Professor Oak, who was easy enough to deceive. He could lie so easily, escape so quickly, so silently...But no; he wasn't Gligarman; he couldn't jump out a window and expect to land without a single injury or sprained body part.

"Arceus," he mumbled under his breath, moving his arm slightly to uncover one of his eyes. It stared up at the ceiling, occasionally turning its gaze towards the walls or towards the window. _This is sickening_.

He closed his eye, trying to fall asleep instead. His room was silent, except for his own breathing, so it was easy to relax. Still, his mind raced with thoughts so great in number that he felt he would take years to write them all down.

It was then that he heard voices. They were speaking to each other in dark tones and serious statements. Derek listened in an attempt to distract himself—only to find that it was all in a language he didn't understand. He let out another _tch_. Of course his uncle and mother couldn't speak in a _normal_ language like English; it had to be some stupid Asian language he couldn't understand a word of. And judging from the flow of speech and length of pauses, the language was Japanese.

At this point, though, it really didn't matter, he told himself, turning over in his bed. He released the tension in his body, letting his muscles relax, and could feel sleep overcome him—

_Knock knock_.

"What," he growled.

It opened. He didn't bother looking up, or turning in bed; he didn't care who it was.

"Derek." It was Setsora...again. "Aliana wants to talk to you."

Derek rolled over to glance at his uncle, who was holding a phone towards him. "Why?"

The man's shoulders twitched in the smallest of shrugs. "She simply has something to tell you."

"Great." Derek rolled his eyes, reaching forward to grab the small clamshell phone. He held it up to his ear, watching as his uncle leaned against the wall nonchalantly. "Hello?"

"Derek?"

"You sound happy," he noted.

Her voice was cheerful—almost sickeningly so. "You noticed? You should be too, really."

"And why's that?"

Even though he couldn't see her, he could tell she was smiling. "'Cause I'm coming to visit. I'll probably be there late tomorrow, so I'll see you in the morning the day after. It's a bit sudden, yeah, but I've also got a bit of a gift for you—when Christmas comes around, at least."

Derek almost smiled at that. "You serious?"

"Would I lie to my cute little brobro?" she asked, laughing lightly. "I'm gonna have to hang up, 'cause I have something I have to do before I start moving, so give my regards to Uncle Tsukinouse. Oh, and don't piss Michael off, if he's there."

The boy blinked. "How'd you know Michael's coming?"

The smallest of hesitations, the slightest of pauses, before she answered. It was a miniscule detail, but Derek caught it. "I talked to our uncle, remember? He told me."

"Makes sense," Derek said cheerfully. "See ya, sis."

"See ya little bro," she replied.

Derek snapped the phone shut, handing it back towards Setsora with a grin. "Thanks, _ojisan_."

"_Ojisan_?" he echoed, sighing as he took the phone. He slipped it into a pocket. "Whatever."

He left the room without another word, shutting the door behind him for the second time that day. The fake smile fell from Derek's face, replaced by a depressed frown. He could feel the crushing weight of disappointment swallow him.

Aliana always hesitated when she told a lie, after all. That saint couldn't possibly hide the truth without at least giving a hint of deceit. She wasn't coming to see him after all; she had business with Michael, and their house just happened to be the meeting place. He turned over, lying on his side, and closed his eyes. It was hopeless. Everything was hopeless.

It was time to plan his runaway.


	8. Moving

"Scared?"

Damion shook his head. "Not scared, but...I feel a bit dizzy, sort of."

Aliana smiled gently. "We call that anxiety. Does your stomach feel empty, or your balance a bit off?"

"That's exactly how I feel!" Damion exclaimed, surprised. "How'd you know?"

"It's a normal enough reaction to this sort of thing," she replied, keeping her tone light. "But you're taking it rather well, moving out of your hometown."

The boy cast a sad glance towards Blackthorn City behind him. The dark buildings, the thunderous waterfall, the kind people; they were all a part of him. He hated to leave them behind, but... "I think it's okay. Because I have to be strong and...um..."

"Resolute?" Aliana suggested.

"Yeah, that's the word!" The boy grinned. "I have to be strong and resolute if I want to be a great Trainer like you, and Michael!"

"Damion, how do you feel when you look at me?" Aliana asked, gazing at the child curiously. She smiled when the boy blinked in confusion. "What kind of feeling do you get when you see me?"

The boy scratched his head. "Um...sort of...strong, but scary?" He shook his head. "Not like scary scary, but...gah! I don't know how to say it!"

The girl laughed. "And when you see Michael?"

Damion frowned. "Scary...but in a different way. Like I'm being pushed away. And he's cool, too. And strong!"

"If you had to compare it to nature, what would you say he was like?"

"Compare...?" Damion thought for a moment. "That's like...being sort of the same, right?"

Aliana nodded. "Just like that, yeah."

"Then...I'd say you're like the sun...and he's like a Houndoom." Damion grinned. "That works, right?"

Aliana pushed the brown locks of hair out of her face, looking out in the distance. Damion followed her gaze, seeing the service people in their white-and-green uniforms and helmet-like hats carry boxes of belongings and load them into trucks. He could see the couch being carried by two of them, and the box he had put all his books and toys in being carried by another.

"Damion, you're a special kid," the girl finally said. "Much more special than me, or Michael, for that matter."

"Special...?" he echoed.

"Special." Aliana smiled at him. "You have a great power, one that'll help you when you become a Trainer. You remind me of one of my friends, except you have a much greater force." She winked at him casually. "Maybe when you're older, we'll meet again, and I can explain to you just what that strength of yours is."

Damion blinked. "Um...okay?"

Aliana ruffled his hair with a soft hand. "Okay? That's all you have to say?"

Damion blushed, coloring his cheeks with a rosy red. "Thank you very much."

"You're quite welcome." She slowly removed her hand from the boy's head, turning away from him with a sad expression. "This is going to be the last time we see each other for a while, Damion, so I'm glad I got to teach you while I could."

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked urgently.

She nodded. "Somewhere, yes. I have to talk to my brother about something. It might be important for us in the future."

Damion couldn't help but notice how much like an adult Aliana was, even though she was only a teenager. He didn't recognize the feeling, but he could tell what she felt at that moment. " Then...is this good-bye?"

"You make it sound like it's forever," she laughed, pinching his cheek gently. He groaned in protest. "Don't worry, kid. We'll meet again one day. You'll be a great, strong Trainer, and you'll have friends that I'll get to meet."

He grinned. "Okay! You promise?"

"I promise." She smiled at him. "I've got to go now, but I'll see you later, all right? Until that time, be a good boy, and remember all the stuff I taught you."

Damion nodded, trying his best not to cry. "I will! I definitely will!"

She took out a Poké Ball, releasing from inside a Dragonair. She winked at him one last time, eyes glowing like liquid gold. "See you, Damion."

"Bye, Ms. Aliana!" he called, watching as she hopped onto the dragon.

The moment seemed like an eternity. He watched as Aliana smiled at him, her hair fluttering in the soft breeze of the afternoon, eyes flashing with a brilliant array of colors. Golden yellow, sapphire blue, emerald green, a light gray, and finally back to gold. Damion could see the Dragonair rise from the ground ever so slowly, every second seeming like a hundred. He reached forward, wanting to make sure he could still feel her touch just one last time before she was gone—

But he was too late. The moment ended, and the Dragonair flew off, leaving only a gust of wind in its wake.

Tears threatened to fall from Damion's eyes, but he held them back. He had promised that he would become stronger, so he would. And she had promised that they would meet again, so they would. And one day, he would definitely become as strong—no, stronger than Michael. He nodded to assure himself. It would all work out in the end.

He turned back towards the truck and to his parents, who were watching with unreadable expressions. With a slow pace, he walked towards them, dragging out the action deliberately. When he reached them, his mother asked him, "Are you ready?"

Damion's lips curved into a sad smile as he walked towards them. Now that she mentioned it, he was finally feeling ready to leave behind the city to move to Pallet Town. It was time to move on and find something greater. With the feeling filling him, he nodded.

His father lay his hand gently on top of the boy's head. "Don't worry. When you become a Trainer, in just a few more years, you'll become the best. Then you can go back to her with a tall head, smiling with the pride of being the best."

Damion found himself unable to speak, some sort of feeling tugging at his heart. His mouth went dry and his eyes stung. But he still held back his tears and simply nodded again.

"Let's get a move on, shall we? It's a bit sad, but since we've already said good-bye to Clair and the rest, I guess we've done all we can," his father continued. He gave one last look at the city, moving his head ever so slowly.

His son followed suit. Memories came back to him of times he had spent. That tree had been where he had had a picnic with Ms. Aliana; that house was the home of Mr. and Mrs. Grace; that bench had been the first place he had sat down with the family pet Wooper, Swift; the market that was behind it was where they sold his favorite snacks and the clerk was always so nice; the park over there was where he used to go and sleep when there was nice weather...

He turned away before he started to cry. It felt so wrong to just leave, but it felt necessary. It was something he _had _to do. Every part of his body screamed it, every part of his mind insisted it, and every thing around him was pushing him away. It was time to move on, he knew, but it would be so hard...so very hard.

Before anything could change his mind, he briskly began walking. His surprised parents hesitated before following and leading them to the van that was to take them to Goldenrod City for the train service.

'_It's time to move on, it's time to move on, it's time to move on_,' Damion repeated to himself over and over in his head. But he couldn't help one more look behind him, just to make sure that this was a place he could return to.

And he let one, just one, tear fall from his eye and to the ground of his hometown.


	9. Talking

Delicately, she laid the cup back onto the plate. Politely, she lightly pressed a napkin to her lips, removing the tea that had stained her lip. Respectfully, she smiled and turned towards her mother, gazing at the woman she looked nothing alike. Regretfully, she could do nothing but sit there and contemplate how to respond to her mother's questions.

Worst situation ever.

"Have you been keeping up with your studies?"

"Yes, Mother," Yuki answered, adding as sweet a tone she could to a bitter lie. She could see the bored, uninterested look in her mother's black eyes.

The woman ran a hand through her black hair, the cuff of her lace sleeve hiding the bracelet Yuki knew she wore. It wasn't anything she could call special, but the metal it was made of was light yet as hard as diamond, engraved with special letters and symbols she couldn't read. Her mother then adjusted the icy blue silk jacket she wore, the elegant collar tucking neatly over the lace blouse and the sleeves matching well with the white material. She was rather like a _Yuki Onna_; beautiful, yet sinister.

"At least your manners have improved," she remarked calmly. One of her long, thin fingers slid through the handle of the china cup, picking it up and pressing the rim of it against her lips. After a silent sip, she set it back down. "You lack, however, the courtesy to drink what is given to you."

Yuki felt her lips twitch with a hidden scowl. In response to her mother's comment, she mimicked the woman's action, taking a sip from the tea. It was Darjeeling tea, and personally, the taste was almost _too _clean and flavorful to suit her. Plus, it let off an aroma that was much too pleasant for the current situation. In all reality, she felt like she were entrapped in a clever plan of her mother's, like a fly in a spider web, given a simple last meal before being eaten up.

But that was beside the point. Pushing back these thoughts, the young girl turned back towards her mother. "Mother, do you mind if I ask a question?"

She inclined her head ever so slightly to show she was listening. Instead of laying down the cup, she simply took another sip, looking about as refined and indifferent as a person could.

Yuki didn't let it bother her. Swallowing back her fear and doubts, she asked, "Is there a reason Father dislikes Pokémon so much?"

Fuyuko Migato gazed at her child with intense black eyes. She showed no reaction towards her daughter's question; rather, she looked as if she hadn't heard it at all. The cup in her hands seemed to take an eternity to be set down again on the plate resting on the table before her, and even then, the woman seemed to refuse to answer.

The seconds dragged by. Yuki found herself counting how long it took for her mother to respond. The all-time record up to that point was four minutes and thirty-seven seconds—not something she wanted to wait for again. They had already reached forty seconds, and they didn't look like they were getting anywhere, either.

Two minutes had passed when her mother decided to answer. "Your father was once quite fond of the creatures. Fascinated, even."

Yuki listened, though did her best to keep a polite form. She gently poured herself some more tea and forced it down as slowly and casually as she could.

"A movement had occurred; Trainers were rebelling against the limiting laws of the governmental system, such as Team Rocket, Team Aqua and Magma, Team Galactic, and Team Plasma. Nobody knew why organized teams in each region had showed up, but they all seemed connected in some way.

"Nobody knew why, except people like your father."

"Did something happen?" the young girl asked her mother, genuinely curious. She was on to something—a mistake leading to a wonderful discovery. "To make Father hate Pokémon?"

Her mother gazed at her, black eyes shining with an unknown look. The tautness of her lips showed her disapproval, but her eyes looked distant and lost, as if she were reminiscing or recalling bad memories. The two seemed to conflict—to tell or not to tell? But eventually, one of them had to win over the other. "You will have to ask your father to know that."

A frown slipped through Yuki's facade, but she forced her lips back in to a smile. "Thank you for the story," she said, bowing her head to her mother.

The woman gazed at her daughter with an exhausted look. Yuki found it odd; after all, she wasn't very used to expressions other than disdain. "Finish your tea and go back to your room."

The girl nodded and picked up the cup by the handle, pressing it to her lips. She took a long draught and emptied the cup, placed it back on the plate, and stood up from the soft cushion couch. After a bow to her mother, she left the room. As long as she was in hearing range, she had to walk slowly.

But outside that range, nothing was to restrict her. Dashing up the stairs, she realized that her mother had mixed feelings about her father's past life. Perhaps they had been together from the beginning, but maybe they had just met in the middle. Had her father been a hero who foiled the plans of these teams? But no; they were still around, even now.

She nearly banged into the doorway in her rush to her room. Rokuta wasn't there, but she knew he was coming soon; she had only a few minutes to pack. She grabbed the bag he had bought her and went to her drawer, quickly shoving in some heavy winter clothes and light spring clothes. Scattered garments found their way to the floor as she dug through the drawers for an outfit to wear. Said outfit was soon found and changed into, while the rest of the clothes not packed away were folded and replaced into the drawers.

A sigh escaped her, but her work wasn't done. She walked into the bathroom connected to her room and grabbed one of the spare toothbrushes, some toothpaste, and the rest of the necessities. It was a few minutes into shoving toiletries into a plastic bag until she realized it would probably be the last time she would be back in this house. She stopped momentarily. Even if she hated the place and though her parents hardly acknowledged her, she still couldn't bring herself to just _leave_. This was where she had grown up, from infant to child. This was where she had learned everything. This was where...

A sound of tapping against her window brought her back to reality. She took the bag with her and began walking across the cold tiled floor. She gazed around the large bathroom one last time, taking in every detail, from the flower decorations on the walls to the alluring blue glow of the lamp that stood on the wall beside the mirror. Oddly, she didn't feel much as she stepped outside the bathroom and closed the door behind her. It was just a cold acceptance that it was time to go.

Through the window, she could see Rokuta motioning towards her. He seemed to be standing in midair, though she knew he was being held up by Erureido's Psychic. Over his back was strapped a black backpack, obviously stuffed full of supplies. Everything from the way he was dressed—a black overcoat hiding a tough, almost armor-like shirt the color of steel and padded nylon hiking pants—to the expression on his face—which was focused and resolute—showed that it was finally time.

She pulled on a jacket, tugged at the sleeves, and threw the bag over her shoulder. With a sense of finality, she nodded to Rokuta. Her teeth dug into her lips as she watched. Rokuta's lips moved, and she caught him mouthing the words, "Erureido, _Psycho Cutter_."

The Pokémon appeared out of nowhere, his tonfas glowing with a green light. He brought them forward and struck the glass full force, a sound like that of a thunderclap shattering the silence. For a moment, the glass held. Momentary panic filled Yuki as the prospect of her being unable to leave struck her. But the moment ended, and the glass exploded in a burst of green light. The alarms began screaming as soon as the glass broke, sounding throughout the entire manor.

The race was on.


	10. Incoming

It was dull, really. They were no challenge—in fact, he had had to hold back just so it would have been a battle rather than a massacre. They were weak, so very so, yet they were supposed to be the people shaking the very foundations of the Pokémon world. If the Exigo Army truly believed they could capture and control the Legendary Pokémon, they would have to do much better than _that_.

He grabbed one of the fallen men by the shirt collar and examined his face. They looked no different from normal people, except maybe for the uniform they were wearing. The man's weary expression, despite his fresh skin and dark head of hair, looked like that of one so elderly, they might drop dead any minute. He looked so old, yet he was but a twenty-year-old man, no different from anybody else.

A sigh escaped the red-haired teenager. His fingers unclenched from the fabric of the shirt, letting the man fall onto his back. The sixteen-year-old Trainer twisted the wrist of his left hand, pulling a string he had attached to his jacket. From inside the sleeve dropped a black-handled knife, which he caught deftly. He twirled the switchblade between his fingers, contemplating whether or not to kill the unconscious men. It would be so easy, yet he would be ending lives of innocent people. One press of the black button would unlock the blade, the glistening black metal, and one stab to the heart, neck, or even brain would end their pitiful existences.

Humans were weak. So, so weak.

A moment of boredom led him to release the blade. From the handle sprung out a four-inch blade. It was plain, but of a pure black metal, engraved with markings that he was unable to read. It was odd, really; the runes were black, yet they seemed to glow of a different color. The teenager spun the handle in his grasp so that the blade was aimed downward.

He reached forward and grabbed the same man by the collar once more. There was no need to kill, he decided, as he cut through the shirt. It was of a thick, rock-hard fabric, but the switchblade easily cut through it. Soon the gray shirt was cut in half, revealing the man's rising and falling chest and hard, defined muscles.

Again, he twirled the switchblade in his hand, so that the blade faced upward. As gently as he could, he pressed the edge to the man's side, just enough so that blood spilled. When the act was done, he pulled off his two jackets. He liked the black one that he had been wearing over the other, as it was made of a practically invincible material, so he decided to cut up the gray one instead. Carefully, he cut through the cotton with the black blade to make one long strip, which he wrapped around the man's stomach to block the cut.

He repeated this process with each of the five remaining men, only cutting deep enough to let the blood drop. By the time he was done, his jacket had been reduced to something even a child would be unable to wear, so he discarded it alongside the men. All he had to wear in that November night was a short-sleeved black shirt and denim jeans, but it wasn't too cold. Instead of putting the black jacket back on, he simply draped it over his arm.

The teenager placed the switchblade in his pocket and stood up, staring up at the moonlit sky. From the other pocket he pulled out a cellphone, which he reluctantly flipped open. Quickly as possible, he dialed the number he had been instructed to call after the mission and held the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?"

Lucky. He recognized the voice. "Oi, Sets."

"Do you realize what time it is?"

"What, mad you didn't get your beauty sleep?" The teen ran a hand through his red hair, walking down the dirt path with a bit of fatigue. His eyes scanned the area for anything hostile, but finding none, the rest of his body relaxed. He continued his way down to Viridian City. "So, right now, Rokuta is getting our first target, right?"

"Yeah. I don't see why he's bringing the girl, though. She doesn't seem like much."

"It's not as if she's useless," he argued. "I myself watched her for a whole day. She definitely passed the test for being a talented person."

"But is that talent useful to us?"

The teenager paused, not having an answer to that. Instead of admitting it, though, he simply said, "Probably."

A sigh from the other end. "So? How'd the mission go?"

"Six Exigo members; five sergeants, one lieutenant."

"Is that a guess or the actual number?"

He nearly smiled at the sudden tone of interest. "That's about how strong they were."

"Did you—"

"I didn't kill them."

There was another sigh, of what sounded like annoyance, but the sound of his voice indicated that he was satisfied. "All right. Any info?"

"They were Exigo, not Team Rocket. That's weird, considering I'm near Viridian. I'm guessing they're trying to either throw us off, or we intervened with some kind of mission for these guys."

"Did you use the knife?"

"Yeah."

Explaining the situation took a long time, and by the time he was through, he had already reached the middle of Route 2. He told Setsora everything, from the poor way they had battled to the precise details of how had had cut them with the knife.

"Are you _sure _you used the knife?"

"_Yes_," he said in exasperation. "Don't you trust me with at least that?"

"No. I've never trusted you."

The teenager sighed. "You're only sixteen, yet you sound like such an old man. You really should—"

A sound of a snapping branch made the red-haired boy turn. A breeze brought a rustling sound as it swept through the open fields, brushing the leaves of trees that had yet retained their leaves. His eyes and ears concentrated for any sign of movement, his body tense and ready to fight whatever came at him. In an attempt to free his hands as quickly as possibly, he draped the jacket over his shoulders and turned towards the phone.

"Sorry Sets. I'm gonna hang up now."

"Wait a sec—"

He snapped the phone shut and slipped it back into his pocket. It was quiet, but he wasn't going to be fooled. Silence was just a means of trying to make the opponent relax; it wouldn't work on someone who was always prepared. He found himself reaching for his pocket, but he stopped himself. There wasn't any point in bringing out a switchblade if it meant killing a Pokémon that had just wanted to protect its territory.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of movement. It was fast, whatever it was, barely touching the ground as it dashed through the fields. He turned around, trying to find it, but the only signs of movement were the soft sound of rustling and the sight of waving tall grass.

His ears caught on quickly enough, and his body reacted impulsively. _Behind! _his senses screamed at him. He sidestepped and brought up his leg, intending to knee whatever had just jumped at him from behind. But whatever it was was nimble and smart; it managed to flip and dodge, hitting the ground with a _thump_. Before he could identify what it was, it got to its feet and lunged at him again, never letting up from the offensive.

Six years of training was the only thing that saved him. The claw that reached for him met only air, as the teenager dropped to the ground. Instead of punching or kicking the Pokémon (for he knew it was a Pokémon), he grabbed it by the stomach, wrestling it to the ground while receiving blow after blow.

"Ziz," he snarled through gasps for breath, "ensnare!"

In response to his command, one of the six the Poké Balls on his belt burst open, revealing a seven-foot tall orange dragon, with two small wings and a tail that whipped the ground and tore it asunder. Ziz roared, so loudly, so powerfully, that the air itself trembled in fear, and the clouds fled from the sky. Arcs of electricity surged from the dragon, rushing forward and catching the Pokémon on the ground with a flash of yellow light. The Thunder Wave did its job, Paralyzing the assaulter in mere moments.

Wiping the sweat from his face, the red-haired teenager stood up, staring down at the Pokémon while panting. He knew in an instant that the Pokémon was trained; after all, normally a Scyther wouldn't be able to evolve into a Scizor without special conditions being met in nature. He glanced towards his Dragonite, nodding. Ziz let out a Thunderbolt to the air, recreating a Flash, signaling where they were. Of course, it was equivalent to shouting to the rest of the world, "I'm here! I'm ready to die!" but it was there only choice to return a Pokémon to a lost Trainer. They waited three minutes before daring to send up another signal.

They were about to send their third when Ziz heard something. The two turned towards south, the direction of Viridian City, where they saw a boy running up to them. When he reached them, he was panting and trying to catch his breath, and his face was sheer white—presumably with worry. He dropped to his knees and placed a hand on his Scizor's back.

"Man, Beryl, you really got what was coming to you this time around," the boy grumbled, patting the Scizor. He looked up, smiling a bit apologetically. "Sorry if I caused trouble... I can't seem to control my Scizor."

The teenager shrugged, kneeling next to the boy. Up close, he could see that the kid was obviously a newbie. His expression was innocent, and those black eyes were unmistakably bright. His hair was mostly dark as well, but shaded with blue tints, like that of the sky at that very moment.

With a smile, the teen answered, "Don't worry. If you're having trouble with your Scizor, why not just show him how much you really care for him? If you ask me, he seems a bit bored. Lonely. As if he isn't battling enough."

The boy blinked, his eyes moving from the teenager's face to the Scizor. The way he frowned showed his realization. "Well, I have been sort of...making sure he didn't battle."

The older Trainer put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Don't worry. So, what's your name?"

"A-Aewir. Aewir Oath."

"Aewir, huh? That's a good name. But with those clothes, you might catch a cold." He removed the jacket from his shoulders and instead put them over the boy's. "That's a really strong material, and it's warm, so you should wear it. It's obviously big on you, but you'll grow into it in a few years."

Aewir smiled, his expression so innocent the older Trainer felt like laughing. "Thanks so much!"

"No problem. But I better get going; you shouldn't travel at night, so you should camp here for the day."

The boy nodded. "Okay! I just had to find Beryl before I started setting up camp, so thanks for finding him for me."

He shook his head. "Stop thanking me already! You're a bright kid, so you should just say it once and be done with it." He smiled. "Don't get killed or anything, all right?"

Aewir nodded. "Okay! Th—I mean, see you!"

Before he said anything more, the teenager forced himself to jump on Ziz's back. The two soared into the air, ten, twenty, thirty feet off the ground in just a second. They sped towards Viridian at an incredible speed, though the Trainer knew they could go much faster than that.

With a sigh, he pulled out his phone and redialed the number. He knew normally he would get yelled at, but at the time, there was no way Setsora could shout without waking the entire house.

It was with a smile that he answered Setsora's growl of anger with a "Well hello to you, too."

"I swear, one day, you'll be the death of me, Michael."

The young Champion smiled at his uncle's reaction, his gray eyes scanning the distance for Pallet Town. "Yep. Keep Derek and Jane safe for me, 'cause I'm coming as quickly as I can."


	11. Dark

Darkness had always been his preference. Not pure darkness, of course, but the light of the moon always gave him a feeling of vibrancy. From what he could gather from all the books and manga he had read (snuck in by his oh-so-loving sister several months back), love was a similar feeling. To feel vibrant in the presence of your loved one was not so different from the light blush he felt as he walked under the full moon in the darkness of the night.

He glanced down at the drawing he had been making. It looked more like a giant orange above a large amount of cotton than a full moon over the dark clouds. He sighed; no matter how hard he tried, his drawings never seemed to improve.

Disgusting? Honestly.

Derek glanced towards the window, gazing at the dark sky. He should have been sleeping by then, but really, he wasn't in the mood. He was a bit irritated by the whole situation, and rather sore about Aliana not really coming just to see him.

_Maybe I should go outside_, he mused as a means of distracting himself, pushing the chair back as slowly as he could. He couldn't help the small squeak as the irritated metal scraped against the wood floor, but he ignored it; nobody would care about one small screech. The real problem was getting down the steps.

He opened the door of his room, glancing outside into the dark hallway. Nobody was standing around, obviously; he would have heard them. He did, however, catch the faint sounds of the rhythmic sighs of sleep—obviously Jane.

He stepped out onto the shining wood, only to trip over something. He crashed to the ground, his hands only barely stopping him from a definite nose-breaking fall. His right hand's wrist smashed against the floor with a painful_ crack_.

"What the hell..." he growled, forcing himself into a standing position. He found himself looking into the tinted eyes of a man. They seemed to glow in the moonlight, lighted by a luminescent gray. His fiery red hair was pulled back into a ridiculous ponytail, reaching past his shoulders. He was wearing an extremely casual outfit—a black t-shirt and blue jeans—but somehow he made them look intimidating.

Derek clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to punch his older brother.

_What is this asshole doing? _Derek thought in bewildered anger, gritting his teeth. Even if the idiot was in the house, it wasn't the time to be sneaking upstairs for no reason, nor was it an important time to be standing in front of his younger brother's room.

"Oi." The young man's gray eyes met Derek's red. He was acting oddly smug despite having just tripped his younger brother. "If you're going to sneak out at night, at least take the time to put on a jacket."

"Oi," Derek echoed with a mocking tone. "If you're going to sneak up to my room at night, at least take the time to give a proper greeting." He spat the last words out, coloring his voice with a hateful venom. He dusted his hands off, knowing that a bruise would form where his wrist had knocked against the wood. "You damn stalker," he added.

"At least I have the talent of one," Michael yawned, holding one of his hands to his mouth in an almost mockingly courteous movement. "Or should I say, 'At least I have talent'?"

Derek walked past him, paying no attention. It was, to say it once more, _disgusting_, honestly. Who did he think he was?

Oh, only the Champion of the Indigo League, Silver Conference, Ever Grande Conference, and Lily of the Valley Conference, not to mention eldest of the three brilliant children of the Risque line. After all, he wasn't good enough to be counted as a child of such a prestigious bloodline.

He continued to walk down through the house, noticing Michael was neither speaking nor moving. He was obviously keeping his "cool" image, trying to act like he was actually worth something as he leaned across the wall. Derek rolled his eyes, walking down the stairs to the first floor of the house. The wooden staircase creaked in protest, loud enough to wake the entire house, but he wasn't in the mood to care.

He picked up the pace as he came into the living room. He walked past the kitchen and towards the front door, taking his pair of (now rather small) sneakers and slipped his feet into them without bothering to wear the heels properly. Unlocking the front door, he slipped out into the cool night of Pallet Town.

The moon was bright and full, almost like a dream. The shadows of the world were beautiful. Perhaps they were not as appreciated as the light, but in Derek's opinion, nothing could be more precious than the darkness of the world. It was _because _it was unappreciated that he could relate to the dark, that he could fit into it like his own.

It _was _his own. He was not named Derek for nothing; why, change a letter and take one off, voila, you have Dark. Even his initials—D.A.R.—almost spelled DARK. It was embarrassing to admit, but these word games were the only thing he could think of to keep himself sane, to keep himself from becoming just another Risque.

He took a step onto the soft dirt roads, wondering how long he had until his parents would wake up. Considering it was past midnight, he probably had about seven hours, though he doubted he could stay awake for that long _and _until the next night. No, he would have to return eventually.

The thought of Michael standing at his door made him freeze. He bit his rather chapped lips, but forced his jaw to unclench soon enough. It wasn't smart to think about his _older brother. _Even in his mind, the words seemed to have been spat out. How could he be related to someone like that?

Lost in thought, he accidentally bumped into something—or rather, somebody. He noticed that what he had bumped was hard, like a shoulder, which surprised him: nobody who was the same height as he could, would, or should be walking down the road at this hour.

"Oh! Sorry about that."

Derek turned, noticing with surprise that the person he had bumped into was a boy with luminous emerald-green eyes—a color he quite envied. He noticed the green eyes widen, but the boy said nothing.

"No problem," Derek said, but also added, "I'm sorry, too."

The boy grinned before walking off, whistling a soft tune Derek hadn't noticed before. It wasn't something he recognized, either, but it was definitely a cheerful one.

He smiled to himself for reasons he wasn't sure of. It was then it struck him: unless he was mistaken, nobody in Pallet Town even _had _green eyes.

He couldn't help but turn around to look at the boy again, surprised to see that he had done so as well. Their eyes met, though the colors were hard to make out in the darkness. There was one thing Derek could tell, though.

He felt his lips curve into a smile, knowing the boy was smiling as well. Something ran between them, like a current of electricity, filling Derek with a burning feeling. But as he opened his mouth to speak, he felt his heart reject the boy. Nobody would accept him. _Nobody_.

"I like your eyes," the boy said, still grinning. "That's a real nice color. Wish I had eyes like those."

Derek blinked. "Thanks," he mumbled. "But your eyes are much better."

As if surprised, the boy turned around completely, hands held up behind his head. "That supposed to mean something?"

A slight exasperation ran through Derek, for reasons he didn't understand. He liked this boy, but it wasn't as if they could be friends. "Nah. Nothing."

The boy flashed one more smile, then turned back on heel towards the direction he had been walking. Before he left, though, he said to Derek, "I live near Professor Oak's lab, so you can come if you want. The big house with the red roof, following this path."

Having nothing to say to that, Derek only watched as the boy left. For some reason, he couldn't stop smiling, and he felt as if he had just been bathed in warm water; a refreshing, clean feeling. All the hate and annoyance he felt towards Michael disappeared in a flash, and even when he remembered his brother, he wasn't bothered by it.

Blinking, he turned around as well, walking off into the darkness with a confused grin. Behind him he could hear the boy start whistling that tune again. The upbeat rhythm, the happy tone, the great beat...

That's right, he told himself. It was really time to get a move on in his life.


	12. Dim

On the truck to Goldenrod City, he had been a bit depressed. After all, he had left behind his hometown and all the people he knew. It was a long journey, too, though apparently they weren't actually going all the way to Goldenrod City. They stopped in a forest region and left the rest to a team of Pidgeot and Trainers, who managed to get Damion and his family across the skies, while their belongings were transported by the truck to some other place.

The bustling people, the huge buildings, and all the noise and colors—it was amazing after living in a quieter, more natural environment like Blackthorn City. The loudest thing there was the waterfall hiding the Dragon's Den; here, though, noises like radio broadcasts, occasional cars, patrolling Officer Jennies, and all sorts of other stuff like music and shouting people filled the air with sound.

Incredible, really. Even the train was awesome, with the speed at which they moved. Damion watched the window from their compartment in the train, seeing the landscape change from the trees and plains to a colder temperature, with snowy forests and frozen fields. Eventually, though, nature faded into a huge urban city, just as big as Goldenrod City.

The train announced the stop to be "Saffron City," which was a cool name for a cool place. But they weren't there for sightseeing, so Damion didn't get much of a chance to look at the huge buildings and towering skyscrapers. He did notice quite a few people in black uniforms, though he had no idea what they were doing.

And soon, they were taking another flight to Vermilion City, which was apparently the stop for their ride to Pallet Town. It was ridiculously complicated for Damion, what with all the flies through the skies and trains through plains, but it was still an exhilarating experience.

Boats. He always liked water, but being ushered onto the boat with so many other people, going into the medium-sized cabin room alongside so many others, and just _being_ there—it was amazing, really. It wasn't as if it were the first time he had ever ridden a boat, but this one was _huge_.

The night outside the the windows was breathtakingly beautiful. The crystal blue waters reflected the nearly full moon in the sky, and Damion watched as Kanto Pokémon jumped out of the waters, almost as if greeting him. A grin found it was onto his face as he saw a familiar Pokémon, a Mantine, burst from underneath the surface in a towering torrent of water and glide in the air. He could have sworn that the Pokémon waved to him, so of course he waved back.

After that came sleep. But it was a restless sleep, and though the day had been such a thrilling experience, he couldn't help but feel depressed over leaving his hometown. But he pushed his gloominess away and forced himself to calm down. It was fine, really. When he became a strong Trainer, he could go back to Blackthorn and beat Clair in a battle. Yeah, that's what he'd do. And maybe when he beat her, he'd go and win against the rest of the Johto Gym Leaders, and then fight in the Silver League Conference. Then he could become a Champion, and battle Michael, and...

Before he knew it, it was morning, the sun's rays forcing him awake. His father and mother were already dressed and packing, so he joined them, and soon they were out on the shore of Pallet Town.

Technically, it wasn't really Pallet Town. But they were close, and it was only an hour by walking. By the time they had arrived in the serene town, it was midday, and their stuff had all arrived.

The day was mostly spent either unpacking, cleaning their new house, or checking out the place. Damion had tried to help setting up furniture and opening boxes to help his parents, but eventually he realized he was just being more of a nuisance than a help, so he explored town instead. He made sure to note that his house was the red-roofed big one near Professor Oak's lab.

First stop was, of course, said professor's lab. After introducing himself, he had a good time talking to the old man. He was really nice and let Damion see all the different Pokémon, so it was an awesome way to spend the day. Plus, the professor even gave him some homemade cookies, which were surprisingly good.

Just before he left, a bit after dinner time, Professor Oak said to him, "After dinner, you should go see the other children in this town. Ash and Gary often play around this time, but I think you should go visit the Risque manor."

Damion blinked, halting at the doorstep to turn towards him again. "Is Michael there? Or Aliana?"

Professor Oak simply smiled at him and said, "Michael is there, yes. As well as his uncle, and a few other people. I don't think Aliana is there, though."

Damion tried not to let the last part get to him. At least he could say hello to Michael. "Thank you, Professor!"

With that done, he raced home. Dinner went by relatively quickly due to its small size, as it was just a bit of spaghetti made last minute, but Damion still thought it was delicious. Maybe it was because of all the talking and walking he had done throughout the day, but it was strangely filling.

It only took him a few moments to tell his parents he wanted to go see some people he knew, though they told him not to worry about being too late or anything. Pallet Town was a good place, full of nice people, so there wasn't really any danger. But they made sure he promised to be home before midnight.

The streets really were nice and clean, though, and all the houses were pretty. Damion couldn't help but stop and look at places he had passed before, such as that one tile roof building with the beautiful red door, or that one small clearing with a Pecha Berry tree. Not many things were similar to Blackthorn City, so it would take time to get used to it, but it was a good change of scenery. There was lots of space to run around, get some exercise, to play...

Before he knew it, he was before the largest building in the town: the Risque manor. He wasn't sure what exactly a _manor_ was, but the huge, reddish-brown three-story building was breathtaking. Aliana had once told him that the house was made of a special wood that repelled water and was extremely durable, though he couldn't remember exactly what kind of wood it was.

A split second before he stepped on the porch, he heard the sound of heavy winds. He turned to look behind him, but then noticed it was coming from the sky. Without warning, something flashed by him, crashing to the ground next to him and only missing by a hairsbreadth.

"'Lo, Damion. What're you doing in Pallet?"

He turned with a grin to meet Michael, who was holding a Poké Ball in his hands. "Hey, Michael!"

The red-haired teenager nodded as he put the Poké Ball back on his belt, a faint smile replacing the usual serious expression he held when he visited Aliana. His gray eyes weren't as cold as usual; they actually looked quite welcoming, as if the usual storm had calmed. Damion did notice that he was wearing no jacket, despite it being November, but decided not to question that. It was Michael, after all. No need to question one of the greatest Trainers in the known world.

"I guess you finally moved, eh?"

Damion nodded. "Yeah! I guess you don't visit here often, but it's cool that we're in the same town, right?"

"I suppose. Though, did you come all the way just to see me, or did you come for something else?"

Something about the way Michael said that confused Damion. He couldn't help but blink, trying to think of an appropriate response. "Um...I guess just to see you?"

Another smile found its way onto Michael's face, telling Damion he had chosen the right thing to say. "That's cool. I could show you around town, if you'd like."

"Really?"

"Really."

Damion grinned as Michael walked past him, motioning with a hand for the boy to follow. They walked down a path different from the one Damion had come from, into a more spacious and tree-filled area. It looked rather like a park, what with the grass and the nice setting. There were Pidgey in the trees, gazing down and cocking their heads, as if wondering whether or not to fly away. One particular Pidgeotto seemed more curious than the others. When Michael waved a hand towards them, it flew towards him, landing gently on his shoulder.

"Wow! How'd you do that?" Damion asked, beaming with curiosity and amazement.

"I once fixed this little guy's wing. Well, Ziz was actually the one who showed me what to do." Michael stroked the wing of the Pidgeotto softly. "You doing all right, Gale?"

Gale nodded, sounding a happy little "Pidge!" in response.

They spent a few hours like this, with Michael showing Damion various Pokémon he had befriended, ranging from Rattata to Caterpie, as well as giving the boy a basic rundown of various parks and clearings. One in particular, with a pond of crystal clear water in the middle of a clearing, intrigued and entranced Damion. The boy made sure to note how to get back to it if he ever wanted to see it again.

It was almost midnight when Damion finally said he had to go home. Michael nodded, telling the boy good night.

"Will we see each other again tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

Michael seemed to contemplate his answer before saying anything. "Well, I actually have something to do at home tomorrow. A bit of a family gathering. I can't say I won't have time to see you, but I can't say I _will_. So...if I do, I'll go visit you."

Damion nodded. It was about as clear a message Michael could ever give. Besides, normally the Champion was a cold and indifferent person; this was one of those rare times when he was actually in a good mood. "Okay! Thanks for everything today."

They took separate paths back to their homes. Damion's was actually longer, but he insisted on going alone, saying that it would be better to learn the roads and ways himself. Though Michael seemed rather doubtful about this, he said to just whistle if he ever got lost, saying that Gale would come find him and lead him to the park they had first gone to.

As it turned out, Damion _did _get lost, but not by too much. He got out of his predicament by stumbling across the pond that he had somehow instinctively returned to, and it took a long time to find his way back to the path back to his home. It led to a sort of crossroad, four paths leading in the directions of the clearing he had come out from, the Risque manor, Professor Oak's lab, and his own home.

He looked to the right, gazing at the path to his house. It would probably take a while to reach it, so he'd have to run. But he was already in for a scolding, so why not just walk a bit and—

_Thud_. He felt himself bump into something, and took a step back or two out of surprise. It was a boy around his age, walking down the street. Something about the way he walked and the way he ran a hand through his hair made Damion think, _Wow, that guy's got something about him. _It was almost like an aura of strength, something similar to Michael. Maybe it was a common thing in Pallet Town.

"Oh! Sorry about that," Damion said. He averted his eyes feeling embarrassed.

When he turned his gaze back to the boy, Damion watched as he turned and blinked, his eyes a dark color Damion couldn't quite make out. "No problem. I'm sorry, too."

The way he said it was final. Damion thought for a moment, but having nothing else to say, simply smiled, whistled a tune he had heard on the radio once, and continued walking towards the path he was to take. Curiosity overtook him though, as he wondered why the boy would be walking so late at night. He turned his head, and with surprise, found that the other boy had as well. A surprised smile tugged at his mouth.

The light of the moon captured the other boy in a white glow, allowing Damion to see his eyes. They were a beautiful color, something like a mix of red, black, and gray, glistening and shining in the moonlight. He couldn't help but blurt out, "I like your eyes. That's a real nice color... Wish I had eyes like those."

He saw the boy blink. "Thanks." His voice was quiet, but in the silence of the night, it might as well have been a shout. "But your eyes are much better."

Damion turned his whole body around and held his arms up behind his head. Curiosity led him to ask, "That supposed to mean something?"

"Nah. Nothing."

The guy was really interesting, Damion realized. He smiled again, turned around, and said, "I live near Professor Oak's lab, so you can come if you want. The big house with the red roof, following this path."

The other boy said nothing, but Damion knew he had heard. It was impossible to say if they would become friends, whether or not he would actually visit. But he knew that whether they did see each other again or not, that boy would always be in his memories.

With that, he walked down the road, whistling the Pokémon march tune from the radio once again, eager to get scolded by his parents back at home.


	13. Light

Before Yuki could so much as groan at the sight of the shattered expensive glass, she was grabbed by Zoroark (who had apparently been released while she had been distracted). The Pokémon jumped straight through the opening, shattered pieces of glass being blasted away by what seemed to be a black aura flowing from Zoroark, encasing them in a shadowy shield that was neither physical nor an illusion.

The November wind lashed out at them with an icy whip, leaving cold marks in Yuki's skin. She was glad she had worn a scarf, for the freezing air against her cheeks was bad enough. They had dropped from the third floor of the mansion, and while dropping from that high was already terrifying, Zoroark's extreme speed had boosted the speed of the fall frighteningly so. She couldn't so much as open her eyes to look towards Rokuta, the wind was so cold.

When it subsided just a second later, she noticed that they had already hit the ground and were rushing through the streets of _Kissaki _City. When she glanced back behind them, she saw Rokuta rushing towards them, riding on what looked to be a _Gallop_. She was amazed that Rokuta was unhurt by the fiery mane of the Fire Horse Pokémon, though she had heard that the flames of a _Gallop _didn't hurt those that it had befriended.

In half a second, Rokuta had caught up, his _Gallop _moving so quickly that they seemed to be blurring. They slowed down to match Zoroark's pace, and they ran together, speeding through the city so quickly that Yuki could hardly believe it.

She was leaving.

_Leaving_.

"They're following. Gallop, use a _Kaen Hōsha _behind us, just to slow them down and confuse them. Then, we're going to separate, so jump. Zoroark, reach _Eichi _Lakefront as soon as you can. I'll reach you with Erureido, so make sure not to lose Ms. Migato. Got that?"

Both Pokémon nodded their approval. In an instant Rokuta and Gallop were out of sight, moving so quickly they looked like they were simply disappearing and reappearing where they wanted to. All the while, they were exchanging blasts of streaming flames with their enemies. The shouts of commands from people behind them alarmed her, but she tried her best to remain calm; after all, with such a fast Pokémon, it's not like they could even catch Rokuta anyway.

Zoroark veered to the left suddenly, nearly throwing Yuki off. A moment later, a _Hakai K__ō__sen _shot past them, a orange-red beam of destruction surrounded with a white light. It hit the ground where they had been moments ago and sent up a huge explosion of orange energy, scattering debris and dust everywhere. Still, the Illusion Fox Pokémon simply rushed on forward, leaving the dust cloud behind in mere seconds.

A few moments later, another one of the attacks came towards them. This time, Zoroark turned her head to look at it and let out a deafening shout, letting a soundwave of black Dark energy counter and negate it. Both energies seemed to struggle for a moment before exploding, confusing the pursuers and halting attacks for a short duration of time.

That time was all they needed to leap out of the confines of _Kissaki _City and into the route beyond. Zoroark put on another burst of speed to get as much out of their pursuers' momentary confusion, and after a few minutes, they were on the _Eichi _Lakefront. They sped past trees and snow-filled fields, all the while dodging, turning, jumping, and diving to avoid any attacks.

While they were technically on the Lakefront, it took another twenty minutes of running to reach the lake itself. It was huge and, surprisingly enough, flowing with water. In what seemed to be a circle around the entire lake was a snow-free area, with a spring-like temperature and environment thriving. It wasn't as obvious a circle as Yuki had first thought, as she saw that it only looked to be a sudden change as they were moving so quickly. But no; the further away from the lake they got, the more snow there was and the colder the temperature got. The only logical explanation was that the lake itself held some kind of mysterious power that completely negated the natural surroundings and weather conditions, and that power weakened over distance.

Minutes dragged by. They slowed down a bit as the attacks ceased, letting Yuki rest her battered and bruised body, though they still moved at a constant and amazingly fast pace. Still, though, Zoroark wasn't invincible, and after another half hour, she was forced to stop near the middle of the Lakefront.

The view was amazing. The sun glittered and shone in the sky, casting a brilliant reflection in the waters of the lake. The surroundings were lush and green, despite it being fall. Trees kept their leaves, with their branches swaying with the warm breezes.

Yuki smiled, for the first time seeing grass, as _Kissaki _City was always covered in snow, year-round. With exhilaration, she jumped out of Zoroark's hold, but she instantly regretted it. A sudden dizziness overtook her, causing her to sway and nearly fall over. She knelt down to let her head clear and gazed at the strange green shoots and small flowers, puzzled but pleased by the strangeness of the flowers, with their small, tiny stems and their beautiful, multicolored petals.

As her nausea subsided, she gently pulled one of the blue-petaled flowers from the ground and held it up closer for her to see. Two leaves in the shape of a perfect water droplet sprouted from the stem, while the petals around the yellow-and-orange center were a vibrant mix of blue and purple. Each petal was delicate and perfectly rounded, like little planets around the sun at the center. Out of curiosity, she gazed at one of the petals more closely, noticing small green veins in the petal's skin that sketched an intricate design. It wasn't a flower she recognized, as she almost never saw flowers other than the vases of them in the Migato manor, so she decided to nickname it the _Miyuki _flower.

Casually, she put the flower into her pocket, and stood up from the field. She glanced at Zoroark, who seemed to be resting for the time being, so she walked towards the lake. It was with a bit of hesitancy that she reached forward to touch the water, but she was instantly glad that she had. Even just soaking the bruises she had gotten in the water was an instant relief.

She walked alongside the lake for a while, gazing around at the scenery. It was really a serene place, like an image of paradise. A sudden urge to lie down overtook her, so she leaned against one of the trees almost adjacent to the water's banks, closing her eyes.

"Having fun?"

She started and nearly fell sideways into the lake. Rokuta was standing there smiling, though there were visible cuts on his face and legs. None seemed to have cut through to his shirt, though his black overcoat was torn up quite badly. He wasn't exactly pouring blood, but it still alarmed her. But before she could so much as reach for her bag, the blood seemed to halt, as if stuck there. She turned, seeing Erureido glowing with a Psychic aura. It had never occurred to her that Psychic abilities could be used like that.

Rokuta collapsed onto the ground opposite her, seemingly at ease. "There aren't going to be any further pursuers. Though, we may want to get to _Kant__ō_ as quickly as we can."

"_Kant__ō_?" Yuki repeated, baffled by the proposal. "Why would we go all the way to _Kantō_?"

"Two reasons." Rokuta held up two fingers. "One," he said, lowering his index, "is because I have business there."

"Such as?"

"Meeting with old friends and discussing matters. Two," he continued, lowering the other, "is because it's a safe place for you. It's way out of your father's reach. Unless, of course, he decides to... No, it's safe."

She wanted to ask what her father could decide to do that would render _Kantō _"not safe," but she decided to hold back. Instead she asked, "Are we going to Teleport all the way?"

The man laughed, seeming to find the idea ridiculous. "Erureido may be strong, but that's a huge distance. Just Teleporting here took most of his strength."

Yuki frowned. "Then what?"

"Cue scene one: Meeting," Rokuta said simply.

She didn't get the chance to stare at him in confusion as at that exact moment, something dropped from the skies and landed right next to her. Shocked, Yuki again jumped and this time actually _did _fall into the lake, though it was shallow enough that she only got doused up to her chest.

The young teenager that had dropped from the sky gazed at Yuki, as if _she _were the weird one. Her eyes were a golden yellow, euphoric, enigmatic, and beautiful, like the eyes of an omniscient being. Brown, flowing hair a few shades darker than Yuki's own reached down her back, slightly wavy and with curling ends. Her bangs were parted in such a way that half of her face was shaded. Despite her casual clothing, it matched well with her whole style, and she managed to look quite graceful.

The young lady gave a gentle smile and held out a hand. Yuki blinked, speechless as she reached forward. She pulled herself up to her feet, shivering in wet clothing and whispering a thanks. Instead of accepting the thanks, the golden-eyed goddess frowned and said something in English.

"Hey, remember that we're in _Shin'ō_," Rokuta told the girl.

The girl nodded, her eyes wandering for a few moments. Then, she said, "This'll work, right?" in fluent Japanese.

Rokuta nodded.

"Well, as I was saying before you _rudely _pointed out that I should speak this difficult language," she said with a frown, "she's gonna catch a cold unless we dry her up." Her eyes turned towards Yuki, making the young girl blush with a slight feeling of chagrin. "See, she's already getting pink in the face from cold!"

"That's actually because you keep treating her like a child," Rokuta snapped. He pulled a Poké Ball from his belt, releasing Gallop from inside. "_Neppú_, Gallop."

Heat emanated from the Fire Horse in rolling waves, instantly warming Yuki up. A sigh of relief escaped her as a feeling like being wrapped in a warm blanket overcame her. But she quickly covered up any sign of it, instantly changing to a more blank expression and turning towards the mystery woman.

The teenager smiled. "That's better. You should dry up quickly with that." After a moment's pause, she asked, "Say, what's your name?"

"Yuki. Migato Yuki."

She nodded, a smile finding its way onto her beautiful face. "That's good. So you're... All right. My name is Aliana Risque; nice to meet you."


	14. Night

**I am unwanted.**

_ Tho__se words reverberated in Derek's mind, causing ripples in the water-like floor of the dark world he stood in. Though he turned, there was nothing to see but further shadows. The pure emptiness of the place was absurd, impossible, and frightening._

_ Yet it comforted him, somehow. It felt like this was where he belonged. There were no obstacles. There were no people to look down on him. There were no books to study. No pencils to use. No place to be. Nothing. It was absolute nothing. Just like he was but a shadow of the world beyond, in this world where nothing existed, there were no shadows. There was only darkness. It was perfect, just perfect._

_ He gazed down, only to notice he was wearing a black jacket. Had he ever owned a black jacket, even? It swept down to his feet, and the sleeves dangled, hopelessly big on him. Even the collar, circling his neck with its hard-set shape, was too big and covered half of his face. Something about it was oddly calming, though whether it was the soothing scent or the gentle warmth of the jacket, he knew not._

_ A light from his left hand seemed to pierce the darkness. Not completely, but in a small circle around him, there was bright light. The ground that was bathed in the light, Derek realized, had turned from water to a solid surface. He took a step to test the limits of his new boundaries, but instead of him walking back onto water, instead the light spread further and the floor once again solidified._

_ Was it the light of his left hand, he thought, that was creating a path to walk? When he glanced behind, he saw that where he had stood before still remained. So he was able to walk forward or backward. How appropriate. To test his theory, he held his hand up, seeing the red glow emanate from his palm. In an instant, the darkness was swallowed by the flickering glare of crimson and the path became like stone._

_ Derek wandered for a while, continuing to walk forward in the darkness, led by his left hand. When he gazed down at his palm, he realized a flame seemed to bled from the hand, though it didn't hurt at all. Curiosity led him to look at his right hand, but rather than fire, he found darkness pouring from his skin. Directing this blackness returned his path back to water, and in panic, he hid his right hand away in the jacket, making sure not to let it shine on his path._

_ Why was he walking, though? He thought of this as he walked, letting his feet guide him to wherever he had to go. There was nothing in this world but the rippling water and the road he had created. His hand's light did nothing to brighten the world; it only gave it form. The shadows did not recede. Rather, with the light, they seemed to grow larger and hungrier._

_ More than once, he turned to look behind him, to see how far he had walked. But outside the radius of his left hand's glow, he could not see anything. This empty world was filled with nothing but him._

_ The solitude was no different from normal, though, Derek convinced himself. He continued to force himself to walk as he allowed memories to flood him. Michael had once been a caring brother. Just a year ago, Derek had adored his older brother, revered him as a role model. But something in his brother's attitude had changed towards him, shattering the bond they had held. Without that relationship with his brother, the only one left for him was Aliana._

_ But Aliana didn't care, did she? She hadn't wanted to visit to see him. She had things to do with Michael and Setsora-ojisan, that was all. It wasn't as if...it wasn't as if..._

_ Before he knew it, the tears were spilling. For a while, he let himself sit there and stare into the dark distance, though his vision was blurred with tears. He allowed them to fall, though every now and then, he wiped them away with his right hand. Something told him that the tears would put out the flames of his left hand, thus leaving him in the dark to die._

_ Every tear that wet his right hand made the darkness grow stronger. But being honest with himself, Derek felt much better towards being in that lonely world. At least he had himself. Besides, if the darkness grew, all he had to do was shine on it with his light._

_ He forced himself up, then, and held his left hand high into the air. There wasn't any time to __be moping around, he decided. He recalled the night before, when he had met the boy with those __luminous green eyes. Just like that boy, he had to stand tall and strong. Though they had just met, Derek felt as if the boy had done something unbelievably kind for him._

_ There wasn't any time to lose. It was time—time to get a move on._

His eyes snapped open. For a moment, it was still dark, still shadowy like the world of his dreams. But when he stood, he saw the morning sun's light pouring in from his window, coloring his room with dark shades of orange and red. The first thing he did was make sure his hands were normal—which, of course, they were. There was no fire in his left hand, nor were there shadows in his right. All there was were the scars and ordinary flesh and bone.

Scratching his neck, Derek glanced around. He didn't remember going back to the house, or falling asleep. It was odd, really. But either way, with the way he was now, it wasn't as if it mattered. Aliana was due to come within hours, perhaps less, meaning...

Meaning what? He had nothing to do to prepare for that. Besides, Michael was downstairs, so there wasn't any point in going down, either. He would rather starve and not eat dinner than face that asshole in the morning.

He resigned himself to a horrible day and sat down in his chair. With nothing to do and a buzzing head, he picked up his pencil and began to write down his dream on paper.


	15. Dawn

Damion stared up at the ceiling, breathing a sigh. He turned over onto his side and gazed out the plain window, watching the bright moon float above the fluffy white clouds. After everything that had happened so far, it was impossible to sleep; he just couldn't settle down. Even in his favorite pajamas, even with the silent night, and even under the warm blankets, he just couldn't get his body to relax and his mind to stop buzzing.

He lay there for a few more minutes, shutting his eyes and trying to block out the world around him, but it was pointless. Eventually, he sat up and pushed off the covers. Restless as he was, he got up and paced around his room, trying to burn off his adrenaline.

It gave him time to think. Think about Ms. Aliana, about Michael, about that boy he had bumped into, about Blackthorn City, about the future. There was so much to think about, he realized, that he couldn't possibly think about it all in one night. After a while of pacing, he sat down on his bed again, lay on his back over the covers, and stared up at the ceiling, as he concentrated better that way.

_Are they all right?_ he asked himself, recalling all the people in his hometown. He remembered talking with Clair and learning all about Dragon-type Pokémon from her. Those had been fun times, though he remembered a bit sourly that she hadn't let him go in the Dragon's Den. She had been a rough teacher, all right, but a good one.

He smiled to himself. Clair definitely was the best Gym Leader in Johto, wasn't she? After all, she had taught some awesome Trainers, and trained together with Lance, the Champion of Kanto _and _Johto. Damion recalled quite a few Trainers from Blackthorn City that he had met, like the Gym Trainers Cody and Lola. Both of them were amazing Dragon Trainers.

Without realizing it himself, he found he had held his hand up to the ceiling, reaching for the starry sky he couldn't see. He was confined, for now, but soon he would be on his own journey, on his own path. And he would rock the opposition's socks off—for sure! All he had to do was be patient until he was old enough to be a Trainer.

He grinned to himself and clenched his fist around an imaginary Poké Ball. He'd be the best, like no one ever was. He'd catch them all, because that was the real test. Training was his cause. If necessary, he'd journey across all of the world, searching far and wide, learning to understand and appreciate Pokémon of all sorts. The power that they held—he'd learn from that, from them, from each other.

"That's right," he mumbled to himself, slowly releasing his grip. His hand dropped by his side as he closed his eyes, sleep overtaking him. "I wanna be...the very best...that no one ever was..."

-.-.-

"It really means something when you wake up to a man climbing into your window. Eh, Damion?"

The boy jerked awake, nearly falling out of his bed in surprise. He looked up, ran a hand through his standing-up hair, and rubbed his eyes to see who it was. "Eh?"

Michael simply smirked, his hair as vibrant as usual, almost looking like a fire as it danced in the soft breeze. It was a strange image when mixed with his dark long-sleeved T-shirt and black jeans, like a fire in the night. His eyes were slightly stormy, though looked calm enough. "You should lock your window next time."

"Michael!" Damion jumped out of bed in excitement, only to slip over his own feet and fall to the ground. He rolled a bit, banging his head against the wall, but he got up immediately, grinning despite himself. "Hey!"

The teenager simply raised a hand in response as he sat on the windowsill and leaned against the pane. "So? You gonna help your parents unpack and fix up the house today?"

Damion blinked and looked past Michael and out to the sky. It was already bright and sunny, though Damion still felt like sleeping. "Is it already morning?"

"Jet lag," Michael said with a faint tone of distaste. He sighed and scratched his head before resting his arm over his leg. "Meh. You should eat breakfast before it gets cold, kid."

"What are you doing here?" Damion asked, pushing himself off the ground and shaking the dizziness out of his head. He turned around and began going through his suitcase, trying to find an outfit to wear. "Didn't you have stuff to do?"

"I do, actually. Just not everyone has arrived."

"Everyone?" Damion asked, glancing over his shoulder.

Michael shrugged nonchalantly. "A few old friends." He pointed a finger lazily at the gray T-shirt strewn across the floor behind Damion. "Why not just wear that, some jeans, and a jacket?"

"Hm?" Damion turned, picking up the shirt with a slight frown. He turned to Michael and said, "It's a bit dull..."

"You're worrying about color?" Michael scoffed, rolling his eyes. With a quick of his fingers, he flicked the hair out of his face, his eyes trained on Damion intently. "Wear the blue shirt, then."

"Ah...sure."

As Damion got changed, the boy couldn't help but notice Michael twirling something around in his left hand, tossing it into his right palm, and twirling it again. He thought that odd for a moment, but remembered that the Champion was ambidextrous—whatever that word meant. The object looked black yet caught the light of the sun, leading Damion to believe it was something metallic. Still, when Damion finished pulling on his jacket, Michael caught the thing lightly and tucked it into his pocket without a word.

"I could help you a bit, if you want," Michael offered, stepping down from the windowsill and dusting himself off. Damion noticed just how tall he really was. "I don't have anything better to do."

"Really?" Damion asked. He blinked in confusion. "Don't you have a little brother, though? And sister?"

For a split second, Damion could have sworn he saw the look in Michael's eyes darken, as if a storm had formed within an instant. But soon, it faded, and his look returned to their normal calm gray. "Nah. They'll be doing all right; my uncle's there, after all."

"Oh." Damion smiled. "Thank you very much!"

Michael shrugged. "I'm not even doing anything important."

The two stepped out of the bedroom, the child humming to himself, the teenager silent. And though he didn't show it, Damion was listening to anything Michael might say, and watching anything he might do. Because for some odd reason, he felt like Michael was watching over him for some specific reason, rather than just being friendly.

He took a deep breath. Today was probably going to be a long day, considering how careful Michael seemed to be being. It definitely wasn't the _ideal_ situation.


	16. Dusk

Yuki clambered onto the back of the _Hakuryu_, though she couldn't help but turn to watch Rokuta. "Do you really have to go, Rokuta?"

The man nodded, but while he seemed sad, he also seemed resolute on something. "Yeah. This is something I have to do."

It was impossible to understand what. Was it the _E.A._? Was it personal? But she held back the questions, held back her emotions, held back any tears she might have wanted to show, and nodded. "Okay," she said. "Then..."

He reached up and patted her on the shoulder, giving her another one of his rare smiles. "Faces like that are unbecoming of you, Ms. Migato." He pinched her cheek, forcing her to stop frowning. "There. Much better."

"You're such a bully," Yuki grumbled, pulling his hand away from her face. She felt the warmth through his skin, remembering the times when he had held her hands when she was frightened. So much had already happened since the day began, and yet... "It's Yuki!"

The man laughed. He turned to behind him, to the teenager leaning against the tree. "See you. Make sure to tell them that I'll do what I can to stop _him_."

"I don't doubt you," the teenager said, twirling her hair around a finger. She smiled, dropping her gaze from the sky to meet Rokuta's look. "Be safe, eh? It'd pretty much suck if you got lost or something."

"Pretty much," Rokuta agreed. He turned to Yuki one last time and ruffled her hair. "Let's meet again, Ms. Migato."

She opened her mouth to respond, but at that instant, he disappeared in a flash of green. Her eyes widened, watching as he faded into nothingness, as he and Erureido teleported. It was shocking, horrifying, almost, to see him one second, and the next he was gone.

Aliana walked up to her, smiling sadly. "Hey, don't worry. You'll see him again soon."

She didn't respond, as she had nothing to say. Instead, she dropped her gaze and tried not to cry. It was embarrassing, but she began to shake a little. But Aliana's words helped a bit; of course they would meet again. There was no way they wouldn't, right?

"Right," Aliana said, almost as if answering Yuki's question. The teenager smiled as Yuki looked up at her. She seemed to hesitate for the slightest of moments, but she wrapped her arms around the girl in a soft embrace. Yuki blinked, surprised by the sudden action. "Don't worry, all right? How many times do I have to tell you that?"

For a few moments, Yuki let herself rest her cheek against the older girl's shoulder. She felt the warmth flood into her body, and though she it was hot enough as it was on the lakefront with all her winter clothing, she couldn't help but appreciate the feeling of a human. It was lonely there, without Rokuta, without her parents, without anyone else.

"Yosh, yosh," Aliana said comfortingly, patting Yuki on the head. "You're a big girl, aren't you?" She paused, then laughed. "Geez, I'm treating you like a kid. Sorry about that. I guess I just don't have a cute enough little sister that I can hug like this. Not like my brother lets me hug him, either."

Yuki smiled, looking up into Aliana's face. The teenager smiled back and slowly removed her arms from around the child. "Careful; don't fall, now," she said, steadying Yuki when she nearly slipped off the blue dragon's back.

"Thank you."

"Why, you're quite welcome." She stepped back, her gold eyes studying the area one last time. "Geez, this place really _is _interesting. I'd love to stay here a bit longer—but I guess I have to get you to _Kantō_." She hopped onto the back of the _Hakuryu _as well, securing Yuki with her hands. "Let's go, shall we, Kai?"

They began to rise up from the ground, slowly at first, then faster. Yuki gazed down, watching as the grassland below quickly got farther and farther away, until they could see the entire lakefront from the sky. It was quite easy, from that altitude, to see the difference between the lakefront's environment and the rest of the route.

"It's quite the view, isn't it?" Aliana said. Yuki turned to her, noticing that she was smiling. "It's breathtaking, really. All the flowers among the green, brown, and blue... Not really something you'll see everyday."

Yuki nodded, not trusting herself to speak. It really was pretty—_too _pretty. Was she really someone who deserved to see something so beautiful, when she had run from home, injured her only friend, gotten so many people into trouble, and created such a mess?

"Don't go blaming yourself for anything you might have done, now," Aliana said softly, patting Yuki on the head. The girl turned to Aliana, blinking back the tears that must have given her away. "Geez, why are you so cute? I can't believe you were with someone like Rokuta!"

"What do you mean 'someone like Rokuta'?" Yuki asked, rubbing the tears out of her eyes, determined not to start crying. "Is he someone you dislike, or something, Ms. Aliana?"

"Aliana's fine," she said with a wave of her hand. "_Miss _is so stuffy. Makes me feel old. Rokuta, though; he's a pretty weird guy. He's so calm most of the time, but when it comes to battle—man! He's a beast, I tell you."

The young girl laughed at that. It was true; she had witnessed it herself. There was no way an ordinary Trainer would have such strong Pokémon, after all. "Do you know Rokuta from somewhere?"

"Not personally. He's a friend of my uncle, so I guess we just got to know each other a bit." Aliana sighed, leaning back on the _Hakuryu_'s back, which was something Yuki would never have the courage to be able to do. "The sky's pretty today, isn't it?"

Yuki looked to the sky. In the distance, she could see the sun setting, coloring everything with shades of orange, red, and yellow. It was entrancing, especially when she looked down to see it reflected on the surface of the lake. The view was like something from a picture book or a fantasy story, a beautiful image that can only be appreciated and never fully conveyed with just words.

"That, Yuki," Aliana said, "is the world you'll be seeing from now on. This is what Rokuta gave up his job for, after all, so don't let it go to waste."

"O-okay."

"Okay? _Okay_?" Aliana repeated, her voice sounding slightly cross. She poked Yuki in the back of the head lightly, making the girl turn in surprise. "Hey, don't be so timid. You can shout out your feelings, now. Rokuta gave that gift to you because he wants you to _use _it, Yuki. Don't forget that, all right?"

"Right!" she exclaimed nervously. She flushed, embarrassed with how loudly she had spoken. "I-I mean..."

"That's the spirit!" Aliana said, grinning. She hugged Yuki from behind again. "Ma-a-an, you're just too cute!" she laughed, ruffling Yuki's hair lightly. "Yosh! To Kanto we go!"

"To Kanto!" Yuki echoed, laughing alongside Aliana.

If she had to be honest with herself, that was one of her best experiences in her life. Not just because of the view, or because Aliana was so nice—it was because she had been acknowledged by someone, cared for by someone, _understood _by someone. Maybe...just maybe, she wouldn't regret this choice after all.


	17. Sister

It's a bit depressing when you have to spend a day the exact same way as you did the one before, but when you get to point where you're repeating your lifestyle _throughout _your life, it gets to you. Badly.

Derek opened his window, seriously intending to simply leap outside and either break a limb and try to escape, or just hit himself in the head and possibly get a concussion. Either way, it'd be more interesting than spending another second in that room of his. However, he stopped at the sight of someone standing outside the front door.

He leaned forward and out of his window, trying to look around the angle to see who it was. To his slight disappointment, it wasn't anybody he knew—not like it mattered, anyway. It wasn't Aliana, and it wasn't that boy from the other day; it was just a mailman with the morning paper and some letters.

Disbelief filled Derek as he slumped back onto his bed. Who delivered _letters _in this age? There were computers, there were phones, there was freaking morse code and signal lights and flares, but _letters_? Death before writing something on a piece of paper and sending it to someone.

"What a load of—"

The door of his room let out a soft groan as someone knocked against the wood. Derek muttered something about not being able to even curse when he wanted to before calling out "What?" in an annoyed voice. The door creaked open ever so slightly, enough for Derek to see a pair of golden eyes glance inside. "PMSing, little brother of mine?"

Surprise filled him as he sat up. When had she even gotten there? He had been looking out of the window only a few seconds ago. He hid his confusion behind a snappy, "Oh, shove a sock in it."

"I thought only girls got periods, but I guess you and Michael are the exceptions."

He crumpled up and threw one of the papers on the ground that lay on the ground at her. It bounced off the door, a few centimeters off target. "Seriously, shut up."

"Bad aim."

The boy contemplated reaching for another sheet of paper but decided against it, instead getting up and opening the door. He frowned at his sister's attire, eying the tight shirt and skinny jeans with displeasure. "Seducing fanboys again?"

"Where do you learn this stuff?" the teenager asked in response with a laugh, walking into his room. "Seducing, really? Don't tell me that was in the manga that I lent you."

"As well as debauchery and S&M. It was the most interesting thing I've read in a long time." He noticed the large backpack over his shoulder and questioned it. "Clothes or something?"

"Ah, this?" She laid it on the floor next to his desk, rolling her shoulders. "You could say that, I guess." Her eyes scanned his room, taking in the details with a golden gaze. "You've been studying a lot, huh?"

"More than I'd like to." He sat down on his chair with a scowl. "Not like I'd have any other way to convince those two to let me on a journey."

"Now, now, 'those two' is a pretty rude way to refer to our parents," Aliana scolded, jumping back onto his bed. The springs bounced her back up an inch or two lightly, which was surprising considering Derek couldn't even get half an inch of a bounce. He doubted it had anything to do with their weight difference, either. He noticed her eying the markings that pens and pencils had left on his wall. "You should stop throwing stuff at your wall."

He glanced behind him. "Yeah. I should."

A chuckle escaped his sister as she leaned back, gazing up at the ceiling with a soft smile. "Good to be home, little bro."

Instead of smiling back, he let out a _hmph _and turned away, back to the papers scattered on his desk. "Get a room, you freeloader," he snapped before picking up one of the information charts he had drawn.

They spent a few minutes like that: silent, but appreciating each other's company. Derek continued to scribble away at the Sinnoh Pokémon, imprinting evolutionary chains and climate effects of the region into his head. Every time he heard his bed creak, he would turn his head and gain a smile from his sister.

After a while of this, she stood up and grabbed her backpack off the ground, rummaging inside. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she pulled out a box, but she only peeked inside at the contents. Curiosity crept into his thoughts, but he pushed them aside. If it were important to him, she would tell him; if it weren't, then screw it.

Five more minutes passed before Aliana tapped her little brother on the shoulder. Her eyes showed an intent that quite frankly creeped Derek out, though her voice was sing-song as she said to him, "Why not take a break?"

"Let me ask you a question: why take a break?"

Aliana shrugged. "You're bored. I'm bored. We've got time to kill."

"Thought you had a meeting?"

There was a slight pause that Derek caught on to before Aliana answered, "Not really. More like a small family reunion."

_Right. A family reunion _meeting_. _"Whatever. Sure, you got anything in mind?"

"A little thing I like to call book reading." She put her hand in her backpack again, this time retrieving a paperback book that Derek was surprised wasn't so much as ruffled. The glossy cover depicted a silhouette of a man, with the handle of a sword over his shoulder. A forest in the night supplied the background, but the full moon in the cloudless sky was colored by a ring of sixteen colors, from red to purple. The title read "Legendary Legacy," and the author was some sort of alias: "ArchXDeath." "It's a pretty interesting read, actually."

"Is that so?" Derek asked, taking it from her. It was actually rather thin, probably only a hundred pages or two. Definitely better than any of the research books he had been reading. "You're telling me to read this?"

"I'm giving it to you," Aliana said with a smile. "But I thought it'd be more fun for your older sis to read it to ya." She ruffled his hair lightly.

Instead of smiling back, he once more scowled. "Fine, fine. At the rate you're going, you won't even clear the first page."

She smirked at that and took it from him as he offered it to her. "You wanna bet?"

"Some easy money for me," Derek agreed.

The two shared a smile before Aliana flipped open to the first page. "Well, here goes. _Ahem_. 'Legendary Legacy, by ArchXDeath. Chapter one, Dread. It was night. All was dark and silent, not a single noise...'"


	18. Friend

Damion waved good-bye as Michael walked away, off towards his meeting. To be honest, it was a load off his shoulders to see the Champion walk away. He had felt Michael analyzing him, studying him. Maybe it was something Michael normally did, but, either way, it was uncomfortable.

The boy glanced to his mom, who was washing the dishes after the lunch they had shared. She was still smiling and was whistling the official Indigo League theme to herself, obviously happy to have seen Michael again. But then again, who wouldn't appreciate a Champion going out of his way to visit?

After a quick discussion with his mother, Damion put on his jacket and left the house. It was already past noon, and he was still tired from last night and the work he had done that morning. Still, it felt nice to be out in the open again after such a tedious job, which raised his spirits a bit as he began to walk.

Once more, Damion traveled through the town and marveled at all the beautiful things. More than once he felt his feet begin to turn towards the Risque manor, but he stopped himself. After all, Aliana wouldn't be there, and Michael was busy.

In the end, he found himself in the clearing with the crystal-like spring of water again. He sat by the edge, appreciating the pond. It was about the size of an average swimming pool, but the water shone like gems in the afternoon light, seeming less like water and more like liquid sapphire.

It was there that he thought about what else there was he could do. He would have to make friends, of course, if he was going to live in Pallet Town for a few years. Maybe he could find some future rivals for when he went on his journey, as well. His thoughts strayed to the dark-eyed boy from the other night, making him wonder if the boy would ever visit. But then again, how was he supposed to know if he visited when he wasn't at home?

Damion stared at the water, dumbfounded at his stupidity. For a few seconds he sat there, trying to get the thought through his head. If he wasn't _there_, then he wouldn't know if the _other _boy was _there_. He didn't have a cellphone, or Pokémon, or anything that could...could...

The boy jumped to his feet immediately. At that exact moment, he heard the softest, most quietest of gasps. He turned and found himself facing a girl with shockingly blue eyes—like liquid sapphire.

"The spirit of the lake!" Damion cried, alarmed. He took a step backwards and nearly flipped into the pond behind him, but the girl darted forward and grabbed him by the shirt. With a surprising amount of strength for a girl her size, she dragged him back to his feet. "W-what?"

Her eyes met his for a minute, lips pulled back into a small frown. She let go of his shirt and took a step back, allowing Damion to view her fully. He nearly slapped himself in the head; no spirit of a lake would wear such thick clothing like that overcoat and undercoat...and sweater...and then a shirt...and probably underclothing...

Damion blinked as the truth hit him. This was no spirit! This was—"A northern princess!"

Her eyes widened at the remark, which worried Damion; had he offended her by accident? However, a moment later, the surprise faded to leave a slightly pink-faced child the same age as him. "I...I am afraid you are mistaken."

"Well, you sound like one," Damion noted, scratching his head at the polite speech she used. "Are you being chased by an evil Tyranitar and can't tell me about it?"

The girl's face showed an expression of bewilderment that Damion couldn't help but smile at. Her lips were a small pout, and her eyes were directed towards the ground. She quietly pushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes before saying, "Not...quite. And if I were, I would not be able to tell you, as you just said, correct?"

"Ah...good point."

There was a moment's silence before the girl asked, "What exactly is this..._Tyranitar_?"

"A Tyranitar?" Damion repeated. When she nodded, he said, "Well, it's this _really _big and mean-looking Pokémon from Johto. It sorta looks like a Dragon-type, but without wings, and it's a rock- and Dark-type. Though, I think I heard they're really nice sometimes!"

The girl's eyes seemed to brighten as she smiled. "Oh, I see. You must mean a _Bangiras_, right?"

The foreign word surprised Damion. "Are you from a different region?"

"Y-yes, I am," she answered, her voice a slight stutter. Damion could hear the faint accent in her voice now that he focused on it. "Is...that a problem?"

"No! Not at all!" Damion said, smiling. "That's really cool. I'm from Blackthorn City in Johto, so I'm not from Kanto, either. My name's Damion!"

She returned the smile gracefully. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Damion. My name...is Setsu." Her eyes grew a bit warmer. "I hope we can get along."


	19. Acquaintance

_"No matter what, don't tell _anybody _your real name, all right? Rokuta and I got you out of Shin'ō with a lot of trouble, so don't go blowing your cover as a child of the Migato family."_

_ So she says_, Yuki thought to herself with a faint sigh, sitting on the bench in the center of the town. She watched the people walk by with what should have been curiosity, but she was too stressed. Brooding over the situation only served to make her feel worse, since what they had done hadn't been too smart.

They had rode on the _Hakuryu's _back for quite some time, allowing Yuki to get some rest in the air. The exhaustion of the day had hit her with a sudden strength—enough that she could fall asleep even with the fear of slipping off the dragon's back and plummeting to her death. Eventually, they must have crossed oceans, for when she woke up they had found themselves in the _Kantō _region. Something told Yuki that they hadn't flown all the way there, but she had no idea how else they could have gotten there so fast.

Aliana had woken her up when they had finished their journey, so Yuki had no idea where they really were. She had been led into the town and told to wait around for a few hours and get herself comfortable, but the small, close-knit buildings and many trees seemed to enclose her. Frankly, the environment frightened her, due to how _different _it was from what she knew.

"This is Pallet Town, my birthplace," Aliana told her in smooth Japanese. She greeted most of the people she met along the streets, though none of them seemed to notice Yuki there. "Don't worry, they know better than to ask questions."

"Um...okay," Yuki said. The remark wasn't very convincing, but the surroundings were distracting her too much for her to really notice. "Will I...really be all right in a place like this?"

"No worries, no worries. I'll only be gone for a few hours, that's all. Just wander around a bit, don't leave town, and I'll find you soon. All right?"

"All right..."

She had watched as Aliana disappeared into the distance. The moment she was alone, she found herself a bench to sit on, closed her eyes...and tried not to cry. She wasn't the type to let tears fall, usually, but things like this were just too much for one day.

Defiantly, she stared at the grass on the ground to stop her tears. It didn't particularly work, but she convinced herself that it did, and managed to pass a few minutes without crying. She forced her mind to think about other things: Rokuta, Aliana, the things she had seen, the flowers on the lakefront; anything other than how scary this unknown world was.

After a while, the threat of tears faded, leaving a quiet and timid girl. She felt a bit uneasy sitting there, though, and not just because of the thick clothing she was wearing (which was quite sweltering the warm weather). It was also because of all the people and buildings and _colors_. _Kissaki _City was quite white year-round, so it was quite an interesting experience. Of course, _Eichi _Lakefront had been beautiful as well, but Pallet Town's beauty came from the work of the humans, not from nature.

Minutes passed, yet she still sat there. People passed her by without so much as a glance, which she wasn't sure she was glad about or depressed about. Sure, the sky was a bright blue, the surroundings were beautiful, that flower in the grass is fascinating—but this whole thing was just weird.

She stood up and began to stroll around, following paths at random. Grass changed to dirt as she entered a more populated area, yet still people seemed to ignore her. She wondered what exactly Aliana had told the people if they were so good at pretending not to care...unless they really didn't care. Either way was all right by her, she told herself, even if it wasn't true.

Dirt changed back to grass and buildings to trees. She found herself in a park-like environment, with bustling Pokémon everywhere. A curious little worm-like green Pokémon crawled up to her, a red antenna on its head twitching. Smiling slightly, Yuki reached down to pet it on the head. It rubbed its head against her hand softly, making her laugh from the tickling sensation.

She looked up at the loud "Pidge!" above her. A small bird with brown plumage and a white underbelly fluttered down and landed on her shoulder. Its feet grasped her coat tightly, but the thick padding of the coat made it so she hardly felt a thing. The odd bird rubbed its feathered wing against Yuki's face in an curious manner, eyes glistening with curiosity.

The girl smiled at the bird as she stroked it with a soft hand. "You're a cute one, aren't you?" she said, earning a happy "Pidgey!" in response. "Pidgey, are you? That's a cute name."

A sudden cry alarmed the two Pokémon, causing them both to start and disappear. Yuki jumped to her feet, attempting to follow them—and found herself stepping into a clearing with a sparkling pond of water...and staring into the green eyes of a child her age.

Surprise was evident on his face. He was dressed lightly, with a gray jacket over a blue t-shirt that matched the color of his jeans. The color of his eyes were like shining emeralds, bright and enthusiastic. She saw his mouth open, but the words that came out made her blink in confusion. "The spirit of the lake!"

Before the English could even register into her mind, she saw him stumble and trip over his own feet. Without thinking, she darted forward and reached forward, managing to grasp the collar of his shirt before he slipped backwards into the pond. Clenching her teeth with the effort, she dragged him back into a standing position, earning a surprised "W-what?" from him.

Her frown was apparently something of interest for the boy as she released her grip and retreated. They stared at each other for a few seconds, and the boy's eyes seemed to glow a bit brighter as he exclaimed loudly, "A northern princess!"

Taken aback, Yuki couldn't help but blush at the remark. It took her a moment to find her voice, and another to switch to English. "I..." She paused a bit, trying to stop the shakiness of her voice. How _embarrassing_ it was, speaking English! She would have to work harder at learning the language. "I am afraid you are mistaken."

The boy scratched his head with a hand. "Well, you sound like one. Are you being chased by an evil Tyranitar and can't tell me about it?"

Bewilderment hit Yuki harder than a slap to the face, but it faded rather quickly. She sighed inwardly as she gazed down at the ground, unaware of the pout her lips had formed. Awkwardness made her nervously fiddle with her hair. "Not...quite," she said shakily. She glanced upwards at the boy. "And if I were, I would not be able to tell you, as you just said...correct?"

"Ah..." The boy blinked. "Good point."

Though it was frustrating to ask, she had no idea what this _Tyranitar _thing was. It took a bit of courage to be able to form the words into a sentence. "What exactly is this..._Tyranitar_?"

"A Tyranitar?" the boy asked. She nodded, chagrin making her nervous. "Well, it's this _really _big and mean-looking Pokémon from Johto." A look of excitement found its way onto his face, and he smiled without seeming to notice. "It sorta looks like a Dragon-type, but without wings, and it's a Rock- and Dark-type. Though, I think I heard they're really nice sometimes!"

Yuki smiled at that. The boy was just too caught up in the moment. Realizing what he was talking about, she said, "Oh, I see. You must mean a _Bangiras_, right?"

"Are you from a different region?" the boy asked, his voice colored with puzzlement.

She inwardly slapped herself at her own stupidity. Had she _already _blown her cover? Maybe if she was careful, she could work something out and form a new disguise. "Y-yes, I am. Is...that a problem?"

"No! Not at all! That's really cool. I'm from Blackthorn City in Johto, so I'm not from Kanto, either. My name's Damion!"

The smile she gave was the kindest and most gentle she could make. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Damion. My name is..." _Make up a name, make up a name! _"...Setsu." Relief flooded her; she had cleared one of the obstacles so far. Just to clinch it, she added, "I hope we can get along."

The boy's innocent smile assured her that she had all right. It was all good, she decided. Now she just had to fill in the empty spaces that were left.


	20. Family

"You're cruel, Aliana. So, so cruel."

"Oh, shut it, Mike."

The Champion shrugged his shoulders at his sister, motioning with his hands how hopeless the whole situation was. A bit irritated, she turned away from him and to her uncle. "So how's the whole thing going?"

"Horribly."

"Great way to put it, Sora," Michael commented blandly, gazing up at the ceiling. "Next you'll be making poetry. You'd take the world by storm."

The red-eyed teenager spared the Champion a glance before turning back to Aliana. "Was it necessary for you to pretend that you won't see the boy again?"

"Oh, I don't plan on visiting him," Aliana said with a small smile. "I pretty much actually did all I could for him in that one week. Besides, if I visit him now, it kinda defeats the purpose."

"You're in the same town, probably only five minutes away from each other, and yet you made it sound like you're on the opposite side of the world. Truly sadistic." Michael flicked a sugar cube into the cup of tea he had been served by their mother. "Plus, you even cast a little girl into a sea of cruelty without so much as a sense of guilt."

Aliana watched the little white chunk of sugar dissolve into the brown liquid. "She'll adapt."

"Sugar doesn't always dissolve completely, little sis," Michael remarked calmly.

She cast him a smile as she took the silver spoon lying on the table. With a light motion, she stirred the liquid in the cup. "If she can't do it herself, then I'll just have to alter the situation a bit."

"Enough, you two," Setsora snapped. The two siblings looked up as their uncle took the cup from them and drank some of the tea. "You're acting like children. This isn't a game."

"You're the one acting like a child, taking my tea like that," Michael retorted.

"Says Mr. I-need-more-sugar-in-this-tea-because-I-can't-handle-it-brisk," Aliana muttered as she poured some more tea into another flower-patterned cup. She took a sip before saying, "Rokuta went to try and get some info."

"Leaving us with the three kids? What a prick."

"I don't even know how you became an undefeated Champion." She gazed at her older brother with a sense of disdain. The red-haired teenager simply smirked in response. "Either way, I've gotten most of the obstacles out of the way."

"Then I'll go assist Rokuta," Setsora said, laying the empty cup on the wooden table.

"Without any Pokémon? That's suicide." Michael waved his hand through the air in a bored manner. "No, no, leave your team with your friend for a while."

The sixteen-year-old uncle scowled. "You two..."

"...don't understand how dire the situation is?" Aliana finished for him, her gold eyes glowing in the light. "Please, Uncle Tsukinouse, we do. Leave the battling to Michael, though. There's a reason he became the Champion of so many regions, even though he's a complete prick."

"It's because of my good looks. Trust me."

"More like it's because of your good connections." She rolled her eyes. "How much do you owe me again in days of training?"

"Five minutes, I'm pretty sure."

"Good. That'll be fifty-thousand Pokédollars, then."

"Stop getting distracted!" Setsora interjected, his eyes dangerously dark. "I swear, this is why I—"

"Okay, okay, we get it. Don't blow a vein or anything. Or rather, don't blow up our house," Aliana corrected. She gazed up at the ceiling. "Besides, if we get too loud, we'll bother Derek, and he only just got quiet."

"Quiet as in not being a brat?" Michael asked.

"Quiet as in not cursing your ass out, which you totally deserve. He's reading 'Legendary Legacy,' which should occupy him for about a day."

"What the _hell _did I just—"

"So anyway," Aliana cut in, smiling at her uncle, "I guess our plans are pretty clear. Mike's obviously gonna go help Rokuta. Uncle, you should probably go chat with your friend and check up on your Pokémon. We'll call you if we need you. And I'll stick around a bit longer until we can finish up our grouping mission."

"It's fun to be diabolical," Michael said with a faint laugh in his voice. "Arceus, children are so easy to manipulate."


	21. Studies

_'In the beginning, there was only _ _a churning turmoil of chaos. _ _At the heart of chaos, where all _ _things became one, appeared an Egg._ _Having tumbled from the vortex, the _ _Egg gave rise to the Original One._ _From itself, two beings the Original _ _One did make. _ _Time started to spin. _ _Space began to expand. _ _From itself again, three living things_ _the Original One did make. _ _The two beings wished, and from them, _ _matter came to be. _ _The three living things wished, and _ _from them, spirit came to be. _ _The world created, the Original One _ _took to unyielding sleep...'_

Derek flipped the page with his left hand as he jotted down the main points of the quote with his right. The book only told more about how the researchers had found the information and some tales of the other Pokémon that he already knew about, so he closed it and looked up from the desk he was at.

He was in the study on the third floor, a whole floor devoted to a library of books. It wasn't _massive_, if you wanted to compare it to a public library, but the documents residing here were precious and rare. Besides, it was still a huge space, what with the dimensions of the Risque manor.

Derek pushed in the wooden chair that he had been sitting in and cracked his neck nonchalantly. He was beginning to get tired, and he had already assembled a stack of books on the wooden desk, but still he returned to the rows of bookshelves.

His eyes searched the books and their titles methodically. His parents had apparently arranged the books to follow a certain theme, which was disgustingly helpful. The books near the back, on a bookshelf with the words "Myths and Legends"engraved in the side, contained the material he had been using, and it was there that he searched.

Seeing the word _Rune_, he turned, only to find that it was titled _Rune Blade; A Myth or Reality? _He nearly reached for it, as the term had been used in the book Legendary Legacy, but he turned away. There would be other occasions to read it, he told himself, and resumed his search.

What he was searching for was a book on Plates, or the Rune Tablets as _Legendary Legacy_ chose to call them. While Derek knew the basic information, such as that there were sixteen for each type (excluding Normal) and that they were apparently the shards of the shattered universe, he wanted to know more in-depth details.

A few moments later, he found exactly what he had been looking for. He noticed an unusually thick book and took it out of the shelf, only to find it was closed over another book. As he pulled out the book, he read its title, immediately smiling to himself at his success: _Power of the Runes_.

With the book, he rushed back to his desk and instantly began reading, leafing through the pages as quickly as he could without ripping them. It was a rather old book, made of string-bound papers with inky writing. The papers themselves were rough and delicate, and Derek knew that it would tear if he wasn't careful with it. It was with extremely contained delight that he (silently) cheered as the book contained all the information he could have wanted.

He flipped to a page at random, near the middle, unable to sit down and read from the beginning.

'..._was alone in the universe before It created the world. It used Its unlimited power to bend __Time, Space, and Negativity to Its will. These creatures have been come to be known as Dialga, Palkia, and Giratina, the three universal rulers of life._

_ 'While evidence shows that it is physically impossible for the world to have been created out of nothing, this can be explained by Arceus' vast reserves of power. It was capable of shattering the abyssal universe when It came into being and form a whole new one through Its powers alone. Furthermore, when It created the three rulers, It may have split its own power into them, weakening Itself as a result. It then proceeded to create the Trio of Spirit before succumbing to weakness and locking Itself away for eternity._

_ 'It is said that the Plates are the shattered remains of the universe that came before us. While several have been seen and taken into care by officials of the government, only one has writing on it. What it says is impossible to decipher, however; the language is one not yet comprehended._

_ 'However, it is assumed that there are more Plates out there and that there is a story told by the correct Plates. If one gathers all the Plates, which is near impossible due to no one knowing the exact number of Plates, it is likely that there will be a hidden message revealed. The above mentioned Plate has now since been identified as a Flame Plate, and it is capable of raising the physical capacities of a Fire-type Pokémon._

_ 'Studies indicate that there are Plates for each elemental typing. The Flame Plate is but one of many. It is theorized that these Plates contain an infinite amount of power, though this cannot be certified. The less common belief is that these Plates enable the user to comprehend nature and the flow of energy and thus take into oneself extra power to boost one's attacks._

_ 'The second belief has been proven to be slightly more convincing than the first, however. Gym Leaders that govern an area have been tested through the usage of a Plate. The individual must pass certain tests before being proposed with one of each of the Plates before they are accepted. It is said that a certain Plate will react with a person._

_ 'It is thus possible to say that humans, too, have certain "types," and the government has decided to move these Gym Leaders into Gyms matching this "type." This typing may be linked to Aura, another topic of controversy. One of the most famous "Aura-users" of all-time and called the Hero of the Wave, Sir Aaron, was said to have believed that all living things have Aura, and that humans simply have lost the old ways of using it._

_ 'The Plates are, unmistakably, power amplifiers, and it is presumed that Arceus has locked away an original set with Itself in Its solitary prison. No one has been able to find this hidden chamber, however, and it is heavily doubtful that we ever will. Thus, many mock those believing that Arceus, or that such a place, exists._

_ 'The Rune Blade, a fabled sword capable of controlling the powers of the Plates, is a legend that has been passed down by many. It is now considered a simple children's story rather than an actual thing, but the blade itself may in fact exist. There are several occasions in history where it has been stated to be owned by an individual, but these cases faded out several decades ago, and the Rune Blade is nowhere to be found._

_ 'One particular example of the Rune Blade is—'_

"Derek, you in here?" Aliana's voice called out, making the boy jump. His right hand jerked and caused the pencil to slide across the paper he had been writing on until it snapped from the pressure. He looked up with a slightly annoyed expression, yet she simply smiled back. "Ah, there you are."

"Yo." He dropped the pencil. "What brings you up here?"

"I had a bit of a talk with mother," she said simply as she walked in from the door. She still had bed hair, and her home clothes were almost suggestively loose. He frowned at his sister's lack of modesty. "Anyway, she's clear out of the kitchen, so why don't you have some proper food for once? I'll cook."

"I was going to accept until I heard that last part," Derek said, scowling. It had already been two days since she'd gotten home, and he'd already experienced more than enough food poisoning. "You're a horrible cook, Aliana, and I don't want a stomachache."

"Oh, how rude! I'll prove to you..." She paused, her golden eyes reflected the papers and books he had gathered. "Are these all on the Plates?"

"Most of them are unrelated. This," he said, holding up the book in his left hand, "though, is really useful."

"Eh, is that so?" Aliana said, smiling. She leaned forward and patted her brother on the head, though he slapped her hand away. Her smile simply widened at his reaction. "Still, though, you should eat first. I made pancakes, so you won't die if you eat them."

"Even you can't mess up pancakes?"

"Even I can't mess up pancakes. Don't worry, we've got lots of butter, maple syrup, and milk for ya."

"All right," Derek said, finally returning the smile. He stood up and placed a bookmark in the book he had been reading from, promising himself to return later. It was one of the first times he had ever been interested in doing studying himself. "Then let's go eat, shall we?"


	22. Conversations

"Morning, Setsu!" Damion said with a smile as he peeped his head through the open door. Instead of finding a just-waking girl under the sheets, however, he found himself staring at an empty room.

Looking back on it, it probably wasn't the smartest idea to put her in his room. Sleeping on the couch in the living room wasn't all that bad for Damion, so he hadn't had any qualms about Setsu sleeping in his room, but a girl would probably want to sleep somewhere nicer, right? Maybe he should have asked his mom to let her sleep in one of the bigger rooms or something.

Then again, she hadn't really seemed to mind. She didn't seem to mind anything, rather. Everything that happened she accepted with a smile, even if it wasn't a great thing. Maybe it was because when they had walked into the house, dusty and tired, she had been let in and told she could stay.

But that was the past. Two days was a long time—right now, his priority was to find her. He bounced out of the room and bounded down the stairs with a slight tinge of panic. Was she gone? Did she disappear? What happened to—

"Ah, Damion." She cast him a sunny smile. "Good morning. It is a fine day, would you not agree?"

"Um...sure," he said, a bit embarrassed as he stepped into the kitchen. Setsu was wearing some of his clothing, which didn't exactly suit her, but it was definitely better than that stuffy winter clothing. He looked up towards his mother, who winked back.

"She's an excellent little helper, she is. Why, I can't believe she's out here all alone, though." Damion's mother took the time to put down the spoon in her hand and hug Setsu gently. "Don't worry, you can stay with us as long as you want."

"Thank you, Ma'am." Something about her face looked a bit down as she said, "I sincerely appreciate it."

Her story? She and her parents had gone on a bit of a vacation, but she had gotten lost along the way. Bumping into one of her relatives, she had been shown to their destination, and that relative had promised to tell her parents where she was. She had gotten to Pallet Town earlier than they had expected, so there was still quite some time before her parents would get there.

Guilt struck Damion quite heavily. He hadn't been being very considerate, had he? It would probably be best to apologize, he told himself. Crossing his fingers behind his back, he said, "D-don't worry! You'll be with us and the time will fly, and before you know it, your parents will be here and take you back with them. But we can have lots of fun before that, and...and..."

She gave him a look of confusion before breaking into quiet laughter. Her eyes were warm when she looked up at him and said, "Thank you, Damion. I won't worry as long as I'm here."

He nodded his approval. "Good! Because if you did, I'd have to get mad at you. Or something like that." He put a finger to his lip as he thought about it. "Yeah, I'd get mad at you. So don't worry!"

"Now, now, Damion, you can go on and sit down," his mother said, her voice shaking as she held back a laugh. "Go on Setsu, you can, too. I'll finish up the breakfast up here real quick, so you two can just talk for a bit, okay?"

"Thank you very much," Setsu said, bowing her head politely She rose up again with a smile before following Damion out of the kitchen.

After a quick breakfast, filled with jokes and stories from the mother (who managed to thoroughly embarrass Damion in every imaginable way), the two hung out. They wandered around the house a bit, with Damion supplying most of the talking. He learned Setsu wasn't the most talkative person, but he knew that she was kind underneath. Maybe she was just a bit shy? Either way, though, he enjoyed her company and hoped she enjoyed his.

It was when they came onto the topic of siblings that Setsu spoke the most. She answered him that no, she didn't have any, but she had once had a friend who had helped her in a lot of tasks, just like an older brother would. When he suggested the term "butler," though, she laughed gently.

"I think the term..._bodyguard _would be most appropriate," she said, though the smile didn't fade from her face this time.

They left the house and wandered out onto the streets. Damion made sure to always have his house in view, just in case the other boy decided to visit. It proved pointless after a few hours, as it became evident that he wasn't going to show up.

He still managed to have a good time with Setsu, though. Whether it be walking under bare trees or feeding the Pidgey that fluttered around, they managed to have a day of fun. Damion noticed a while later that she was his first real friend.

It was definitely nice having friends.

When night fell, before they returned to the house, Damion noticed Setsu looking up at the moon. He could tell that she had something on her mind, but when he asked, she simply answered, "Nothing at all. I suppose I'm just a bit...tired."

Damion decided not to remark on the pause. Instead, he said, "Well, let's get to bed, then. We can go check out the parks and stuff tomorrow, and you can meet Dad. 'Kay?"

She smiled and nodded. "'Kay."


	23. Thoughts

Damion was a good boy. He was kind, bright, and just a great person to be around. He made those around him happy, and every moment was fun when he was there. It was because of Damion that Yuki could deal with the whole situation without breaking down.

But at night, it was a different story. The rooms that seemed infinitely large when Damion was there seemed to close in on her, the walls shrinking and squeezing her now that she was alone. The darkness that had once held the light of boundless opportunity now crept towards her, reaching for her neck, for her exposed body.

She hugged her knees to her chest, stifling a small sob. She had never been afraid of the dark, but she had never realized that enclosed spaces were so bad. Loneliness had never occurred to her when Rokuta rested against the wall of her room, or when she had slept in the arms of Aliana. But now, in this small, dark room, the terror of the night seemed ten times more frightening.

Originally, she thought she would overcome this phobia. She said nothing of it to Damion or his mother, for she was already indebted to them. Instead, at night, she just forced herself to sleep, enduring the nightmares and the random wakings. But after two days of it, she was doubting any probability of the fear fading.

With a trembling hand, she draped the blankets over her shoulders and around herself, enclosing herself in a small little ball. Wiping her eyes of the tears that had formed, she stared at the wall and tried not to let the fears get to her.

Seconds dragged by like hours. It took her minutes to realize that it wasn't a fear of the dark or monsters; it was the fact that she was alone and _unprotected_ from them. Another hour passed before she realized that she would be unable to sleep that night.

_Stupid Aliana, _she thought, biting her lip to hold back her sobs and tears. _Stupid Rokuta. Why send me to _Kantō_ of all places?_

Unable to take it anymore, she tugged the blanket off herself and stood up from the bed, walking towards the window. She fumbled with the lock and struggled to push open the heavy glass, but she felt a lapse of relief when the cold autumn wind soothed her heated skin. Her eyes closed, and, for a minute, she forgot her worries.

She stood there until the fear began to settle back in, and then she opened her eyes and turned back to the bed. It was with a start, though, that she noticed the person sitting there already.

"Heya," Aliana said in English, raising a hand in greeting. Noticing what she had said, she scratched her chin before saying it again in Japanese. "You seem a bit scared. You all right?"

Yuki couldn't help the slight surprise at Aliana's speech. It wasn't the same politeness it had been the first time they had spoken; she was speaking more informally, like a friend. Still, it was a nice change. She had always been stuck with people speaking to her in, frankly, stiffly polite ways.

Before she realized it, the fear had completely left her, and a smile had found its way onto her face. She walked to Aliana and sat next to her on the bed. "Maybe I was... Just a little."

"Just a little, eh?" Aliana chuckled and wrapped her arm around the girl. She pulled Yuki into a gentle, one-armed hug. "I'm sorry for leaving you here by yourself, Yuki."

"It's not your fault," Yuki said. She wasn't sure if she was being truthful or not.

"It is," Aliana insisted. She poked Yuki's cheek with a finger lightly, making the young girl laugh quietly. "Well, I don't meant to disturb Damion's family or anything, but we're getting you out of here."

"So soon?"

Aliana smiled sadly. "Yeah. I wanted to stay in Pallet a little longer, but I have to leave. And since I can't just leave you here by yourself... Well..."

_I think you already did that for two days, _Yuki thought to herself with a pout. "I suppose that is only reasonable..."

"You don't have to worry about making it up to Damion or his family. You'll be able to do that in the future, and very soon, too." Aliana patted Yuki on the head absentmindedly, her golden eyes gazing out the window into the far distance. Yuki noticed a change in the teenager's expression, something different from the normal smile. It was an almost frightening change, the way her eyes grew so much darker when serious; they almost seemed black. "Well, you'll still be in Kanto, but I'll be leaving you with someone else who'll tell you what to do."

"Someone else?" Yuki repeated, confused. "But who?"

Aliana turned to the girl with a grimace. When she spoke, Yuki felt a shock run through her body, though she didn't understand why. It was as if she understood why Aliana looked so serious, why she seemed so reluctant.

"My brother, Michael."


	24. Aaron

"You're kidding."

Derek could barely even form the words, his mouth was so dry. He stared up at the man before him, but he was unable to stop himself from shaking. It wasn't out of fear; no, it was out of hate.

"I am not."

"But _why_!" Derek asked. "What reason is there to keep me here? How can you make a decision like that _three years _in advance?"

The man's expression grew darker as he said, "I have decided."

Derek, feeling the anger grow in him, could barely help himself from running, or shouting, or crying. "What... What kind of decision is _that_?"

"The right one."

The calm voice that Aaron Risque spoke in was detestable. He spoke as if everything he said was the right thing to say—as if he were God Himself. Derek hated the man he called Father, hated the man who he had been born to, hated the man that treated him as if he were nothing.

Why was this man his father? Why did Derek have to even be _related _to this _thing_?

The words were lost on his lips, and he could only turn away bitterly. He began to walk away, only to be stopped by his father's voice.

"You have not been excused, Derek."

Derek dragged himself to a stop and clenched his fists, feeling the not-yet-healed wound on his right palm reopen. The pain was a relief, for it gave him a distraction from the words that continued to echo in his head.

_"You will not become a Trainer. You have failed our expectations."_

"Father, that's quite enough."

Her voice was a solace, and Derek turned to her instantly. Aliana had her hand on her father's shoulder. It was for the first time that Derek noticed just how tall his sister really was—and somehow, that made her feel all the more distant, as if an age gap separated them when appearances and personalities already did.

"Aliana." The man regarded her coldly, his gray eyes all too similar to _his_ eyes. Derek felt himself tense up again. "Do you have a complaint?"

"Several," she answered coolly. Her eyes were an abysmal black in the shadowed room, and her expression was as dark as Derek had ever seen. "Is there a reason for this decision, Father?"

"Your mother and I have contemplated it and discussed it together. Children—" He emphasized the word with a tone colder than ice. "—such as yourselves have no right to question our decision."

"Then what about the opinion of your eldest?"

Derek froze at the sound of _his _voice. He didn't even have to turn; he could see in his head the teenage Champion leaning against the wall.

"Perhaps you are the eldest," Aaron Risque said, "but you are still but a child. Are you questioning your father's choice?"

A low chuckle from the red-haired teen. "Not in particular, _Aaron_." His choice of words and deadly tone made it plainly obvious how little he cared about age or lineage. "Perhaps old geezers don't realize that teenagers are a rebellious group. Well, I can imagine why, since your age grew up with sticks and stones, after all."

Something like a sneer found its way onto their father's face. "I am still willing to forgive you two if—"

"If we apologize and leave, huh?" Aliana finished. Her eyes seemed to grow even darker as she said, "Father, there's a reason why we're doing this in the first place."

Michael sighed. "Don't group me in with you, Aliana."

"_Shut it_," she snapped. She turned back to her father with a scowl. "Father, you should reconsider your decision here. Derek's obviously not—"

"He has failed our expectations. Do you not understand that?"

"And who set those expectations?" Aliana urged. "_We_ did—Michael and I did. Well, then, the ones who have exceeded your expectations will help the one who hasn't."

Their father's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise.

Michael chuckled again. "My, my, Aliana. You sure have set your sights high. Do you honestly expect me to help you in something as troublesome as this when I have better things to do?"

"Do you two honestly expect me to allow you to do such a thing?"

Aliana sighed. "Father, do _you _honestly expect me to just sit back and watch my favorite sibling get bullied like this? I'd rather blow up this entire house than do that, thank you very much. And you know I'm quite capable of _that_."

The man's expression hardened as if he recalled an unpleasant memory.

"Now, Derek, do you mind going upstairs for a bit?" Aliana asked calmly, glancing at Derek. Her eyes had regained their golden glow, which was a relief; he had been getting scared by the darkness of her eyes.

The red-haired teenager didn't even so much as glance at him as Derek walked past him. Slightly dejected by this for reasons he didn't understand, the child ran up the stairs and into his room, ignoring the voices that sounded behind him.

He slammed the door behind him, and, for a minute, felt tears threaten to spill. Instead of sitting there and crying like he normally would, though, Derek walked towards his bed. He found a small backpack there, along with a piece of paper.

It was a note from Aliana. He read through it quickly, and, at the end of the note, he couldn't help but smile despite the seriousness of the note. His sister really loved drama, didn't she?

_Derek, it's about time you left. Father will have probably already told you that you won't become a Trainer—but you know that by the time you're ten, Michael will be of a legal age. I'll convince him to sign the Trainer contracts and stuff for you and act as a guardian, so just wait until then._

_ It's probably hard to do this, but pack your things in this bag here. I've left a bit of a present, too, since I won't be here for Christmas, so... You can take it. Just don't let your parents find out, all right?_

_ But Derek, if you don't think you can do this, you can just pretend that this never happened. I'm giving you the chance to run, but I don't want you to take it. I have to leave, Derek, and this is my good-bye to you. If you're gonna hitch a ride with your sister, I suggest you stop reading this note and get to packing._

_ It's stupid, right? I'm sorry; I promised to stay until Christmas, but this is the most I can do. Uncle Tsukinouse sends his regards, too._

_ Leave it to Michael and me. We'll get it right. Just make your decision, Derek. After all, you're our younger brother. Obviously you'll make a choice that'll stump us all._

_-Aliana Serenity Risque_

He reached under his bed and pulled out the bag that he had shoved in there. Did his sister really think that she had to protect him? She shouldn't; after all, Derek was already more than prepared to leave.

He took his bag and set it aside his new one. Then, he unzipped the black backpack, wondering what the "present" was.

His fingers touched something cold and hard, making him blink in surprise. Curious, he pulled it out of the bag, surprised at how heavy it was. When it was fully out, he realized just what Aliana had done for him. It was an egg case for a Pokémon egg.

_That idiot of a Breeder, _Derek thought to himself, smiling. _She's giving a kid something like __this?_

The egg merely shone in the light in response.


	25. Setsu

_Knock knock._

"Coming!"

Damion nodded to Setsu, who smiled sadly, and walked towards the door. Excited, he undid the lock and pulled the door open, smiling when Michael greeted him.

"Hey, Michael!" Damion said, grinning.

"Mm," the red-haired teenager responded, stepping inside the house. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail today, and his gaze was unnaturally hard. Damion paused at the doorway, noticing a cut on his face.

"Did you get hurt?"

"This?" Michael asked, pointing at the wound. When Damion nodded, he simply said, "Just a fight. It's not all that uncommon, really."

"Oh..." Damion blinked, but decided not to ask. "Okay."

They walked into the living room together, and Damion motioned for Michael to sit down on the armchair. Damion sat next to Setsu on the couch.

"It's very nice to make your acquaintance, Michael-_san_," Setsu greeted.

"Sure, sure." The teenager rested his crossed his arms, his lips in a frown. "I'm here to pick you up and get you home, if that's all right with you."

Setsu nodded. "It's for the best."

"I suppose it is." Michael glanced at Damion. "You look a bit agitated."

"Agit—?"

"Sorry. Sad," the teenager corrected. "Is something the matter?"

"No, nothing at all." Damion smiled sadly and turned to the girl sitting next to him. "It's just a bit sad to see Setsu go, since she's a good friend."

The girl blushed a faint pink and looked away.

Michael simply nodded his head, absentmindedly wiping away blood that trickled from his wound. Before Damion could even ask, Michael raised a hand and said, "I don't need a band-aid, Damion. It's fine."

"But—"

The teenager stood up, took the little bag that had Setsu's clothes in it, and shook his head. "I know it's a bit rude, but we have to get _Setsu _here back to her parents."

Something about the way he said Setsu's name worried Damion. Had something happened to Setsu's parents or something? Or maybe she really _was _a princess?

Said girl slowly stood up as well and turned her head to Damion. "I'm sorry, Damion. It's a shame to have to part like this, but..."

"I-it's okay," Damion said as he stood up, forcing a smile. It felt wrong, and he was worried that he might be frowning instead. "See? I told you your parents would be fine! I was right, wasn't I?"

Setsu nodded, her eyes a sad blue. "Mmhmm. You were definitely right." She bowed her head, her hair shadowing her eyes. "Thank you for everything."

"Don't thank me," Damion said, looking down at the ground. He felt his eyes tear up, but he forced himself to not cry. He patted Setsu on the shoulder awkwardly. "We'll meet again. Just visit me sometimes, okay?"

Her eyes widened for a second, and, suddenly, they looked like glass: a direct window to her fragile heart. Damion could feel the pain she did at having no way to show how thankful she was, the pain at being unable to help her leaving. The moment passed, and her heart was blocked off again; invisible to all but herself.

Damion saw her lips twitch, as if in an attempt to smile. Instead, though, she only turned away slowly and began walking, following Michael to the doorway. Damion couldn't find the strength to follow her, for some reason.

The door opened, and Michael disappeared from view. Damion watched as Setsu stepped outside, her fingers touching the wooden door so as to close it.

Just before she did, she turned her head to him and smiled one last time. It was a genuine one, a happy one. "I _will _visit you. See you, Damion."

And with that, the door closed and forever shut off Damion's first friend.


	26. Michael

Weight.

It was as if a heavy weight had been loaded on her shoulders, bringing her down to her knees, making her gasp for breath. As if gravity had doubled its ferocity, or as if the very world was pushing down on her. The weight was too much for her to bear, and she dropped into a kneeling position.

"Are you all right?"

Yuki, panting for breath, forced herself to look up into his piercing gray eyes. She tried to move her lips, but her mouth was much too dry to form words. She could only nod feebly.

"Obviously you aren't," Michael said, completely ignoring her response. He picked her up with an arm and practically threw her onto the back of his _Kairyu_, which he called Ziz. "What, did the weight of the situation finally hit you?"

The irony of the words he had used almost made her smile.

It was hard to believe that the two were siblings Yuki thought to herself as Michael climbed on behind her. Michael was a lot rougher than Aliana, in both appearance and personality. Perhaps it was the _weight _of being the oldest sibling of quite a few others (according to Aliana). Still, despite their differences, they shared similar tastes in Pokémon, it seemed. Just as the orange dragon they rode was hardly comparable to the elegant blue _Hakuryu_, the rough Michael barely seemed to share anything in common with the fair Aliana. And yet they seemed so similar if Yuki just switched her perspective.

Of course there were major differences; one in particular stood out to her—and that would be Michael's monstrous presence that weighed her down, telling her to bow before him. The murderous aura was undeniably powerful, and though it was only a sense of fear, Yuki could hardly stand up before the man.

Yuki closed her eyes, wishing that she could just fall asleep. It had been a horrible day, and she still felt bad about having left Damion without even getting to thank him properly. The boy's expression had been so sad...

"If you're worried about Damion, he'll be fine."

Yuki nearly jumped. Another similarity between Michael and Aliana: the two always seemed to know what she was thinking.

"And if you're scared about me reading your mind," Michael said in fluent Japanese, turning his head towards her and giving her a bored look, "don't be dumb."

She normally would have been offended by his informal tone and rude words, but she somehow knew that Michael was just comforting her in his own odd way. Even if she could barely raise her head to respond due to his oppressing strength, she felt the man's kindness. She had heard Rokuta describe people like this before with a certain term... Apparently he had had a friend who was like this, always being cold despite being a good person.

What was the word...?

She smiled when she remembered. "Michael-_san_, are you by any chance a _tsundere_?"

The teenager suddenly jerked his body, startling Yuki and making her wonder if she had said something wrong. But when Michael began to laugh, she realized she had just caught him by surprise.

"The only _tsundere _I know is my uncle," he said, his voice light and conversational. He was smiling and still shaking with laughter. "I guess it's possible to call me that, though."

Yuki felt her smile widen as she closed her eyes, feeling the weight seemed to disappear from her shoulders. The Risque family really was full of good people.

-.-.-

"All right."

She woke up with a start and nearly fell over; her legs had fallen asleep after riding the _Kairyu _for so long. But she soon rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes, straightened her back, and gazed around at their surroundings.

And it was with amazement that she gasped, "What _is _this place?"

"Just a rest stop," Michael answered nonchalantly. Something about his tone sounded false to Yuki, though.

His eyes were towards the sky, and he hardly even seemed to notice their beautiful surroundings. Yuki, on the other hand, could hardly tear her eyes away from them. The only thing that led her to turn away was to see more.

They stood on the peak of a snow-topped mountain. The air was frigid, and the winds tore viciously at their exposed skin, yet Michael seemed indifferent in his hoodie. He did, however, occasionally touch the cut on his cheek, as if the cold wind were agitating the injury. It was covered with an odd purple band-aid, and Yuki couldn't help but smile at the sight of it. The seemingly all-powerful Michael—using a child's band-aid?

Amused, she turned around and leaned over the edge, letting out an amazed "Wow!" at the sight. A town in the shape of a circle splayed out before them, colored with beautifully shaded trees and elegantly crafted buildings. A huge stadium, large even from the distance they were away from it, was visible in the distance. She recognized it as Silver Town, home of the Silver League Conference.

"Is this...?"

"We're at the peak of Mt. Silver," Michael confirmed. "Only Champions are allowed on the top, since getting up here is no joke. You normally have to get through Silver Cave."

Yuki's eyes widened in wonder. "Did you get us here by yourself?"

"What, through the cave?" Michael shrugged, and Yuki noticed for the first time the cuts in his clothing and noticeable scrapes on his body. "You're with me, aren't you?"

She frowned. "That's not what I meant..."

"It was a simple matter of making sure I didn't crush you by accident." The red-haired teenager turned away and stepped towards the distance, his feet crunching the snow underneath him. "Well, of course, it's not like I only have insane Pokémon like Ziz."

Yuki opened her mouth to respond but, finding nothing to say in response, simply closed her mouth.

"We'll be going back to Viridian City after we're done here," Michael said calmly. He turned his head towards her, his eyes a dark contrast against the falling snow around them. "Just wait there for a second and don't get lost. I need to find something I lost the last time I was around here."

He began to walk away, leaving the frowning Yuki behind. After a moment's hesitation, she ran after him and said, "Wait! Let me help!"

The teen stopped in his tracks, and Yuki nearly bumped into his back. She slid on the icy ground and nearly fell over, but she caught herself; after all, she had lived in Snowpoint City, so it was only natural that she was used to snow and ice. (Though, she had never really left the manor...)

With a sigh, Michael glanced at her. "All right, fine. But if you find it, don't you dare open it up."

"Open it...?"

"What I'm looking for." The faintest touch of embarrassment found its way into his voice as he said, "I'm looking for a locket."


	27. Running

A lot of kids Derek's age (six-years-old) who watch television oftentimes have the ridiculous impression that they can copy what the heroes on TV do. It is, to their poor understanding, perfectly reasonable to be able to fly or shoot lasers—and thus, a lot of children hurt themselves and learn the cruelty of reality through failure. In this way, they mature and walk another step towards becoming adults.

In Derek's case, however, he had never even watched a cartoon, since he had found them to be full of flashing lights and booming noises that hurt his head. The idea that cartoons were stupid and a waste of time was, perhaps, the only thing he agreed with his parents on. If one were to look at it in a different sense, he was already far more mature than most any child his age, with a mental capacity to match.

Thus, there was no belief that he would be able to fly if he jumped out his window, like he was preparing to do. He had already learned that gravity would pull him down to the earth if he tried. The backpack slung over his shoulder was not something that transformed into a parachute, nor was it secretly a jetpack—it was simply a backpack made of a cloth known as nylon. He was not Gligarman, who could soar through the sky just as a true Gligar could, and neither was he Spinarakman, who could shoot webs from his hands and climb up and down walls, for he was an ordinary child who preferred to walk on his own two feet.

He knew that, if he jumped down to the ground from a second story window, he would probably break multiple bones in his small, frail, young body.

He wasted no time in trying to be a hero. When he jumped, he aimed not for the ground nor for the sky—he jumped at the branches of the tree in his backyard. An ordinary child would have either been brimming with confidence that he could make it (foolishly convinced that he would be able to make the distance due to his "supernatural powers") or be too scared to jump. Derek's condition was, in this case, closer to the former; however, he was not confident in the belief that he had supernatural powers, but he had already tested before how far he could jump, how close the branches were, and whether or not they could, and would, hold his weight.

As according to plan, he grabbed onto one of the thicker limbs. The wood dug into his hands as the force of his jump swung him through the air, but he merely used the momentum and grabbed another branch. Slowly, he dropped from branch to branch in this manner until he hit the ground.

Not a single injury, and he was already out of the house. Way too easy.

"God, and I thought this family was supposed to be smart," Derek muttered to himself. He grabbed onto the iron fence that separated the backyard from the front yard, pulled it open, and locked it behind himself.

With that done, Derek walked down the street and left his house behind him.

Just as any other child would, Derek felt the elation of having successfully run away from home. A grin found its way onto his face, and he ran through the town without any direction in mind; he simply wished to widen the distance between himself and that dreaded manor. The backpack over his shoulders seemed to weigh nothing as freedom filled his very veins, and with one fist to the sky, he shouted, "Yes!"

The sound soon faded, and the boy found himself slightly less full of himself. Now that he was actually out of there, he wasn't sure where to go or what to do next. He was a practical child for his age, but no one could expect a six-year-old to think much further than escape. Maybe there had been visions of working for people to earn enough money to scrape by, or perhaps some miraculous being taking pity on him, but none of those would actually happen.

He found his feet dragging to a stop at the entrance to Route 1. If he left, there really wasn't any coming back—ever. He would have to fight for himself in a world where children really had no strength. The chances of survival were minimal.

The weight of reality came crashing down on him. He could only stand there pitifully, staring at the lab that stood to the side. He knew who lived in there, and he only hoped that he wouldn't come out.

But, of course, reality was making fun of him today.

"Why, Derek, is that you?"

Derek turned at the sound of the kind voice, only to find himself face-to-face with Professor Oak. He nodded to the old man, who was wearing a white lab coat and holding grocery bags in both hands. They were full of things like milk and bread, making Derek wonder if that was all Professor Oak ate. He also found himself wondering whether he should bow or just greet him.

Before he could make up his mind, the old man smiled and said, "It's quite the pleasure seeing you out. It's very rare that you leave your house, after all."

"I...uh...yeah."

"Oh, what's this?" The professor carefully laid the bags in his hands down onto the ground and put his hands on his knees, bending forward. "What's in the bag? Going on a bit of a trip?"

Instinctively, Derek took a defensive step back. He realized his mistake when the professor's eyes widened, and he tried to fix it by saying, "Oh, um, this is just a gift from someone."

For a moment, the old man said nothing, and Derek wondered if his lie had been way too obvious. Soon, though, he smiled (again) and said, "Ah, that's nice."

If anything, Derek found it a bit insulting to be thought of like another child. He knew what Professor Oak was thinking: since Derek was just a kid, he was probably proud of the gift and wanted to show it off.

_Well, Professor Oak, I think I ought to—_

"Since it's been so long, how about you join me for a cup of tea? I could always tell you some of my best poems! Why, I must say, I'm quite proud of some of my most recent works."

The old man laughed and picked up both of his grocery bags with one hand, offering Derek the other. Derek tried to decline, but Professor Oak only said, "Nonsense! Come now, Derek, let's do some catching up."

"B-b-but..." Derek tried to say, but the old man merely took him by the hand and led him to the nearby lab. _But my freedom...!_


	28. Strolling

"Oh, did Setsu leave already?"

Damion nodded, not bothering to look up from the TV screen. He stared past the colorful escapades of the on-screen hero, staring only at the window to a world he couldn't enter. The lights flashed back at him in a tantalizing dance. "Mmhmm. Michael took her to her parents."

"Well, that's too bad." His mother stepped into the room with a sigh, and when Damion turned to her, her expression was wistful. "What a shame; she was such a good girl, too. I'm glad she's going back to her parents, though."

Having nothing to say, Damion simply nodded again. It had only been three days, but he had grown fond of Setsu. She had been such a kind person—maybe even more so than Aliana. What with her mysterious background and her elegant demeanor, he couldn't help but think about all the things he should have asked while he had had the chance.

With a sigh, he turned from the TV to the glass window. Would they ever meet again in the outside world? Maybe when he became a Trainer, they would find each other somehow, maybe meet up coincidentally. She had said she was from Snowpoint City...hadn't she?

"Mom?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know where Snowpoint City is?"

"Snowpoint City?" His mother walked up to him from the kitchen. "That'd be in Sinnoh, Damion. The northern parts of Sinnoh, full of ice and snow. It's a beautiful place."

"Have you been there before?"

"Why, I went there with your father on a date." She smiled, as if she were remembering good old times. "He insisted on going all the way to Sinnoh, though I had no idea why. Turns out he wanted to show me the white city."

Interested, Damion looked up at his mom. "Is it far from here? Sinnoh, I mean."

"Well, let's see. Your father took me on a ferry, and that was quite the while... Sinnoh's a large region, and Snowpoint City is in the middle of Pokémon territory, so it would take quite a while to get there safely. But taking a ship to Snowpoint from Vermilion would probably only take a few days at most."

"Just a few days at most?"

His mother nodded. Damion smiled at that. Maybe they weren't so far apart after all, if it was only a few days to get there. When he was a Trainer, he'd be sure to go check out Snowpoint City and find Setsu.

"Well, I better get to making lunch." His mother turned back toward the kitchen, though she gave Damion one last look. "How do sandwiches sound for today? We have some great cheese."

"Grilled cheese!" Damion exclaimed, grinning.

She simply laughed. "Of course, of course. They'll be done soon, so don't wander off."

"'Kay!"

Damion watched his mother disappear into the kitchen before he stood up. He turned to the TV, smiled at the animated characters that traveled the region, and then made for the door. He pulled on his shoes and stepped outside, taking in the fresh breeze of the morning.

The sun was smiling down on him. Damion shivered a bit at the autumn cold, but he let the wind wash over him. It was refreshing to stand there on the porch without a care in the world. There was no doubt in his mind that he would do exactly what he needed and wanted to do. After all, life was just too awesome to not do that.

He grinned to himself. He'd get to see Setsu again soon. Besides, she had said she would visit, hadn't she? All there was to do was to wait for that promise to be fulfilled. And, of course, the other boy would have to come see him some time or another, too. They were his friends, after all. And friends they would be, forever.

That wasn't all, though, he thought to himself. Just because he had friends didn't mean he could be the most ultimate and epic Trainer ever. Being a master Trainer was going to be even harder than making friends, and he knew he would have to start early if he wanted to make it.

With that in mind, he jumped back into the house and called out to his mother. "Mom? Can you wrap them up for me?"

She poked her head into the room, a confused expression replacing her usual smile. "Whatever for?"

"I think I'm gonna go visit Professor Oak. I wanna know as much about Pokémon as I can!"

"Well..." The woman shrugged to herself, stepped back into the kitchen, and was silent for a few minutes. When Damion's patience was about to run out, she walked into the living room with a small backpack and a bright smile. "All right, that's great, Damion. Just be back before it gets dark, okay? And if anything happens—"

"I'll call!" Damion exclaimed, unable to hold back his energy.

His mother nodded, laughing quietly to herself. "Okay, then. Just be careful, and don't do anything dangerous. And listen to Professor Oak; don't bother him if he's busy. All right?"

"'Kay!" He took the bag from his mother and nodded buoyantly, waving goodbye as he made for the front door. A grin found its way onto his face as he called out, "See you, Mom!"

**Setsu taught me otherwise.**

-end-


	29. Soaring

"Ah, is this it, Michael-_san_?"

Michael turned to her and nodded at the object in her hands. "Yeah, that's the one." He took the strange necklace from her, holding it tightly in his hand. "Thanks. My uncle would have killed me if I'd told him I lost this."

Yuki nodded. The necklace hardly looked like a locket—it was a strange snowflake-shaped cross necklace strung with a silver chain. It was a bloody red color, not unlike Michael's vibrant hair, and it seemed to glow on that mountaintop of lightly falling snow.

Noticing her interest, Michael held it out to her. "You can take a look if you want. I doubt you can open it, though."

While she found the remark strange, she simply nodded and took it from him. It was warm to touch despite how long it had been in the cold, buried under the snow. The heat of the necklace spread into her fingers, making her sigh in content.

Still, though, she couldn't help but feel a bit indignant about what Michael had said. Her fingers clasped around the metal and tried to open it, but nothing happened. She tried to find a ridge or opening with her nails, only to find that the locket was as smooth as silk. Any attempts to dig her nails into the metal simply ended up in her fingers sliding across it, almost as if there was a barrier around the necklace.

Frowning at the strangeness of the whole thing, she flipped it over in her hand. The back was no different from the front, and her endeavors all failed, just as before. She handed it back to Michael before she could embarrass herself any further and hung her head, saying, "I really can't..."

"Not surprising," Michael said. He pulled the necklace over his head and slipped it down the front of his shirt. He turned his back to Yuki and stretched, raising his arms to the sky. "Even I can't open it normally, so I doubted you could."

While she knew he was probably just trying to console her, she did feel a bit better after hearing that. She gazed up at the teenager, who turned his head and glanced back at her.

"Well, we should really get going—hang on," he said, pulling a phone out of his pocket. The glossy red disappeared from view as he flipped it open and held it to his ear. "Mm?"

Yuki watched Michael quietly for a few seconds. His expression remained the same throughout the entire conversation, even as he stood there for more than a minute in silence. The responses he gave were usually short—completely unlike Rokuta's visible agitation. It was completely impossible for Yuki to understand what the teenager was feeling, even though she could usually tell for most people.

Growing slightly bored, she turned away and gazed over the edge of the mountain. She didn't feel very cold—probably because she had been born in a town with freezing temperatures all year round—but she knew Michael must have been suffering from severe issues with the cold. After all, he had given her his jacket, leaving him in hardly any clothing at all.

With that thought, she turned back to the teenager, who was closing his phone with his eyes closed. He let out an extremely long sigh, as if letting all his worries out into it, and when he opened his eyes again, they seemed to have gained a bit of a light to them.

He turned and smiled at Yuki. "Well, she seems to have calmed down, now. No need to backtrack anymore, thank Arceus."

"...I'm sorry?"

"It's nothing."

A sudden flash of white made Yuki jump, and the _Kairyu_ Ziz gave her an amused look. She hadn't even noticed Michael reaching for a Poké Ball, so she couldn't help her surprise.

Apparently, the teenager seemed to notice her shock and raised a hand in apology. "Sorry. Habit right there. Now, normally we can't fly up here, but since we'll only be diving down, it's all right."

"Are you sure...?" Yuki asked meekly.

"The winds won't bother Ziz, if that's what you're thinking. And no, you won't fall if I'm riding next to you. Trust me."

Neither of those were really her main problems, but she nodded. The heavy aura the Champion had seemed to let off had faded a while ago, but the fact that he had ever let off such a strong feeling did give her a sense of security. This man, who was apparently an undefeated master, a man of apathy, and a cold, stoic character, was offering to protect her from harm with a smile on his face

It made her blush almost as hard as when Damion had mistaken her for a princess.

He picked her up and put her on Ziz' back before jumping on behind her. He patted the _Kairyu _on its side and whispered, "Now, mind getting us to Viridian, Ziz?"

The dragon grunted in response before leaping into the air. Yuki had already experienced the feeling once—the air crushing down on her as they soared into the air—but the experience was still breathtaking.

Almost immediately, icy winds struck at them with murderous intention, slashing at exposed skin and howling its authority. In response, the _Kairyu _let out a roar of its own. It was deafening to hear the shout echo back at them, and the wind seemed to think the same; it parted before them as if torn apart by sound alone.

Ziz dived into the opening in the sky and immediately began their descent. Yuki grabbed the _Kairyu_'s neck harder than before, whereas the teenager merely laughed. "C'mon, Ziz, you're out of shape!"

The scarlet sunset glowed in the distance, peeking over the horizon with a sunny smile. Everything in the distance seemed to bleed shades of orange, red, and yellow, and even the sky seemed to shine with color. As they descended further down the mountain, the sun bade them farewell and faded from view, leaving Yuki with a beautiful memory to remember.

Halfway down the mountain, their fall slowed as the Pokémon began to glide ride than dive. The air was much warmer than before, and Michael took the jacket from Yuki and pulled it on again.

She smiled and rested her cheek on the dragon's neck. "Thank you, Michael-_san_."

"What for?"

"It was..." She struggled to find the words in English. "...an amazing experience. I really never though of something like this, so...I'm very grateful. Thank you very much."

"You don't sound your age." She could hear Michael yawn and felt him lean backwards. "Kids are supposed to jump around, grin stupidly, and shout things like, 'Thanks!' and 'Woah! Awesome!'"

A small laugh escaped Yuki. "I'm sorry that I can't be like Damion. He's a very amazing person. Much more than I could ever be."

"I'm sorry, too," Michael said, his voice regretful. Yuki turned to him in surprise to find his eyes had darkened. "Rather, I should apologize to you specifically. Sorry. You've lived a much harder life than Damion has, what with parents like yours."

She shook her head lightly. "No... I had someone with me who was always helping. And my parents aren't that bad... They just don't know how to express themselves."

"If only that were the case," Michael said.

After that remark, Yuki found it impossible to find words to say to the quiet Champion, who stared off into the distance for the rest of the flight. She watched him, noting his expression, seeing his lips twitch when his thoughts troubled or amused him.

It was hard to tell time in the air, but to Yuki, it felt as if hours had passed before they finally reached their destination. Grassy fields mapped out underneath them, marred only by trees and their fallen leaves. The colorful world below greeted them with flashing smiles, waving their arms as the soft warm breeze came to welcome them.

A small collection of houses and clearings was visible in the distance as well. It was a small, peaceful city, just as Pallet Town was, though it had a bit of an odd atmosphere to it. Yuki couldn't shake the odd feeling that the place wasn't as it seemed, despite its pleasing appearance.

Before Yuki could stop to think about it, Ziz landed softly in the grassy fields, and the two humans stepped onto the ground. Michael, whose expression had finally changed to a light smile, returned Ziz to its Poké Ball and said quietly, "Well, here we are."

Yuki nodded. "It's...beautiful."

"In a different sense from Mt. Silver, but yes, it sure is." Michael motioned for her to follow him as he began to walk towards the city in the distance. "Viridian City. C'mon, let's go."


	30. Chasing

_Jeez, that kid._

Aliana buried her face in her crossed arms. The wooden table pressed against her skin uncomfortably, but she ignored it, unable to sit up straight. She had never really felt it before, as she deliberately lived a carefree life, but the feeling was unmistakable: distress.

She had given him two options—only two in that note—but he had found a third option she hadn't even expected. It shocked her, to be brutally honest, despite how she was supposed to be the most rational of the four children of the Risque household. Her little brother, who she had decided to protect for her whole life, decided to do something that could endanger his own life.

Dread seeped into her veins and flooded her body, making her shudder. If, by any chance, Derek were to hurt himself, she wouldn't have been able to deal with it.

Her eyes began to sting a bit, and she closed them. _I was stupid, thinking he would actually wait for me there,_ she decided.

And then the panic hit her.

_Oh Arceus, why am I such an idiot!? _Aliana shouted to herself. She let out a shaky breath and took her phone out of her pocket. Without even thinking, she flipped it open and held down the "3" button.

The speed dial command instantly started the call, and it was only a few seconds before the other person picked up.

"Hello?"

"Michael..." Aliana pulled herself up into an upright position. "There's a slight problem."

"Do I care?"

"Don't give me that!" Aliana slapped a hand to her mouth, surprising herself with her small outburst. She closed her eyes and forced herself to take a deep breath. "No, sorry. I didn't mean that."

"Mm. So, what happened? It must be quite something to get you so agitated."

She ran her finger along the table absentmindedly, trying to form the sentence without letting her brother notice how worried she was. "Derek decided to take off on his own...without my help."

"Uh huh. I told you this would happen."

"It's already been hours, and he could be anywhere. I know we were the ones who decided to get him out of the house, but—"

"I suggest to not worry about it."

His voice was rather shaky, and he seemed to be speaking a bit slower than usual. Aliana frowned, momentarily forgetting her own concerns, and asked, "Are you all right over there?"

"Well, I'm kinda dragging a sleeping girl through Silver Cave, so yeah, perfectly fine."

Her retort was lost as she remembered the situation. "But about Derek, I—"

"Does it really matter?" Michael interrupted. There was no amusement in his tone; he was dead serious.

"Of course it matters! Honestly, you're hopeless!" Aliana snapped. She ended the call before she had to hear anything more from her stupid older brother, and she glared out the window.

It would be easy, probably, to find him if she were to look properly. There were only so many directions he could go in, and there was only so much time he had. If anything, he would probably want to get as far away from the house as possible...

...so did she really have the right to stop him, anyway?

Her fingers started moving on their own again, holding down the "2." The call took a bit longer to connect than it did for Michael, so when the _click _finally sounded, she couldn't help her exclamations. "V-Viccy?"

"Aliana, it's been a while!" the voice greeted with an evident dialect. "Ya don't normally call unless Mom's—"

"H-he ran," Aliana cut in, slightly shakily. She caught herself and continued, saying, "You know someone who did the same, right?"

"He ran away?" the voice on the other end asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, my younger brother... My older brother's not doing anything to help, and..."

"Calm down," Viccy said softly. "Calm down..."

Trying to take the older girl's advice, Aliana sat down on the edge of her bed, biting her lip. "I really don't know what to do, though. He has every right to run away—really, he does—but I don't want him out there alone, where he could... Anything, please, just tell me what to do."

"Sure thing, I can give ya some pointers. This is exactly what Kimiyo did, and funnily enough, at the same age—"

"Same age—you mean _six_?" Aliana exclaimed. "Her, too?"

"Uh huh."

The teenager let herself fall onto the bed, letting out a groan. Just what was wrong with kids these days? "I suppose I should start by explaining the situation to my parents, if anything..."

"Yeah, call your parents. It's probably good to call any other family members ta see if they can help, too."

"You think that's a good idea...? I don't really know..."

"Listen, I might be stopping by Blackthorn later today, so the two o' us can chat about it then." Her voice was painfully calm, which both relieved and worried Aliana. "See ya."

"Yeah...see you..."

The call ended with a _beep_, and she dropped the phone next to her on the bed. She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself by telling herself "He'll be fine. He's a strong kid."The words seemed to lose their meaning each time she repeated them to herself, but it was the only thing that she could do.

She didn't have any "other family members" to turn to, considering the only other one (her uncle) had been the one to inform her of Derek's absence, but...

Her hand reached for her phone and instinctively held down the "1" key. She held the blue metal machine to her ear, and she didn't even have to wait as the call immediately connected.

"Aliana... Is there...no." He paused before switching from Japanese to English. "Is there a problem?"

"Ah..." Aliana felt a bit tongue tied at the sound of his voice. Anything she had planned to say was lost as she stumbled for words. "Well, I...uh..."

"You sound...troubled," he said, obviously choosing his words carefully. His tone was ever so slightly amused, which only embarrassed Aliana.

She cleared her throat and steeled her resolve. Before she knew it, she was spilling the entire story out, including her conversations with Viccy and Michael.

"And then...and then...she just hung up..." she finished lamely. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks and quickly added, "So I just want some...some advice on what to do..."

There were a few moments of silence where she could only hear the heavy beat of her heart. She closed her eyes, too embarrassed to keep them open, the mental image of the him laughing at her painfully realistic in her head.

When she _did _hear him laugh, she nearly laughed alongside him. It was such a kind, lovable laugh he gave her, unlike the voice in cruel tone in her mind, that her heart skipped a beat. "Don't worry yourself so much, Aliana. I happen to be in Kanto, so I'll make sure Derek doesn't get hurt."

The freezing cold anxiety suddenly seemed to thaw at those words, and a small smile pulled at her lips. Her eyes suddenly watered as if the thawed ice in her blood was forming her tears, and she couldn't help a childish giggle.

"Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you..."

As she brushed the tears out of her eyes, she could hear by the sound of his voice that he was smiling, too. "I told you, it's just coincidence that I'm here. So thank _him_, if anything."

Aliana laughed at that remark, despite how grave it was that _he _was in Kanto. "I'm really thankful... So very thankful...Rokuta."


	31. Lost

"...and then I said, 'How are you going to eat that doughnut if it's a rice ball?'"

The old man laughed good-naturedly, and Derek followed suit (albeit a bit awkwardly). He fidgeted in the wooden chair as he gazed down at the wooden table, his fingers clenching the edge tightly.

It had been about thirty minutes already. The jokes had been, at first, tolerable, but now they were boring into Derek's brain—and _boring _Derek.

He forced himself to relax. No matter how tense he got, it wasn't as if it would help him get out of the situation, so he decided to simply sit there until he found a chance to leave. If he had to listen to a thousand horrible jokes that he hardly even understood, then that was fine—it would all be fine as long as he could get out of there at some point.

The question was when that point would come.

"So, Derek," the professor said, snapping Derek out of his thoughts, "it's been wonderful seeing you again, but your parents would be worrying, wouldn't they?"

_Score! _"Um..." The boy cocked his head. "Well, I suppose they would, yes. I was actually going on an errand, so it would be bad if I..."

_Oh, crap. _His eyes widened at the mistake he had just made, and the professor's surprised look only further strengthened the feeling of growing stupidity.

"Well, then allow me to help you!" Professor Oak leaned forward with a smile and asked, "What did you need?"

Derek opened his mouth, trying to find something to fill in the empty void in his mind. No matter how hard he thought, he couldn't think of anything to say that would stop the professor from helping. _Stall for time, stall for time!_

"Well, I...uh..."

"Yes?"

His eyes wandered in an attempt to find something. The wooden table was shining and clean; the windows were spotless, and the town outside colored with yellows and reds; the staircase that was in view was a dark shadowed area that only grew darker...

_Aha! _He glanced down at his hands and saw the pale skin look back at him. "S-some gloves. And maybe a coat or something. That's why I brought this bag!" Derek added, lifting up the black nylon. "You know, to help carry all the clothing back."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, making Derek wonder for the second time that day if he had failed to convince the professor. Then, just like before, the man broke into a smile.

"Why, that sounds wonderful."

The professor made to stand up, his palms on the table, when the doorbell suddenly rang throughout the room. Derek's eyes widened in disbelief as Professor Oak stood up and called out, "Coming!" before turning to Derek with a slight frown. "Forgive me, Derek; just wait there for a second, if you don't mind—ah, yes, I'm coming!"

The man dashed off to the door, leaving a grinning Derek alone. The boy immediately jumped to his feet and ran for the back exit that led to the Pokémon grounds, his shoes squeaking against the tiled ground.

As he had only ever visited the lab once in his entire life (with Aliana a year or two ago), he wasted a few precious seconds looking around for said exit. It was only common sense that helped him find the way, since he knew for a fact that the opening to the back gate was preceded by the room filled with Poké Balls.

When he did find that room, he stood there for a few seconds in awe. Hundreds of Poké Balls were lined on rows on steel railings in the wall, with shiny laminated pieces of paper to identify them. He saw a few Great Balls, Ultra Balls, and other kinds of Poké Balls mixed in, but those were few and far between.

He soon came to his senses at the sound of voices trailing behind him. With a bit of difficulty, he tore the steel door that led outside open and was immediately met with a glaring midday sun. Derek had never been as glad as he had been right there that it was still only the afternoon; he rushed onto the grassy fields, greeted a few of the curious Rattata, and climbed over the wooden fence.

The hard pavement underneath his feet made a loud _thud _as he dropped down to the ground. It was a satisfying sound, almost as if the ground itself was congratulating him on his success. That made two escapes in one day—why, perhaps he could make it out alive after all with the elusiveness he had shown. He had been insane to think he wouldn't make it on his own.

With that thought in mind, he ran around the lab and back to the dirt path leading to Route 1. He held up a hand to his head in a silent and lonely goodbye, muttered a thanks to no one in particular, and left the professor to his guest without him knowing it.

He said his last goodbye to Pallet Town itself before stepping onto Route 1.

Promptly, he tripped over his own feet upon entry.

-.-.-

It was nightfall by the time Derek slowed his unrelenting pace. His breath came in pants and his muscles groaned in agony—something he had rarely experienced in his life stuck in his room. Without any strength left to stand, he collapsed onto the ground, dirt and grass covering him as the autumn wind blew across the route.

He was, without a doubt, lost.

_Follow the path my ass, _Derek groaned mentally. He had been trusting the books he had read on the physical geography of Kanto, but when it came to the actual route, the path disappeared halfway through, covered by grasses, dirt, and Pokémon tracks everywhere. Even if he wanted to go back, he had no sense of direction at that point.

In other words, he would have to choose a random direction and hope for the best. Trees blocked any light that he would see in the distance, so Pallet Town and Viridian City were both long out of sight.

He rolled over on the dirt and turned to the sky. The moon smiled at him, glowing without a care in the night, as if it were amused. He felt a scowl pull at his lips as he continued to watch the silver orb and the cloudless starry sky—

He almost slapped himself in the head. _Of course! _He could just follow the stars! If he wanted to go north, all he had to do was follow the Polaris star, which, if he remembered properly, was...

..._where was it again?_

_ Oh jeez. _It was gonna be a long night.


	32. Found

They wandered into the dark streets dimly lit by lampposts. A soft breeze, warm compared to the lashing cold of Snowpoint, brushed their skin and walked with them for a while, stirring the trees and grasses. It seemed to embrace them one final time before leaving for its own purposes, and silence sank into the dark city.

Their footsteps echoed in that dark quietness like ripples in water. Every time something sounded in the dark, she turned to it in shock, only to laugh nervously and with relief when it turned out to be nothing but a rustling branch or restless Pokémon. Without realizing it, she found herself edging closer to Michael, though she held herself back as soon as she noticed.

Michael seemed oblivious to the ominous mood—rather, he seemed focused. His movements were deliberate and confident, yet they almost seemed forced; he occasionally glanced over his shoulder, his fingers clenching into a fist for a moment before unclenching again in the motion of grabbing and releasing something invisible.

He tensed for a second, pausing for just a brief second. Yuki stopped to look at him, but he had already begun to move again.

"Come on," he said quietly, taking her by the hand. His touch was cold, colder than the autumn breeze. "Let's get to the Center."

"The Center...?" she asked faintly, though her question was met with silence as they sped through the streets.

As they passed by the dark silhouettes that made up the houses of the city, Yuki couldn't help but notice the lack of people in sight. The city was by no means small—rather, it was quite big—but there hardly seemed to be any traces of civilization. Not a single light illuminated the shadowed windows of those buildings.

The wind that blew was lonely, Yuki realized. There was no one left in that place for the breeze to play with.

Michael's grip on Yuki's hand fell loose suddenly, and he stopped without so much as a word. She looked up at him, towards his luminescent gray eyes, feeling the tension in the air. It wasn't unlike the first time she had been alone with the Champion; it was an oppressing weight on her shoulders, pushing her down, sending her to the ground underneath her. She forced herself to remain standing, but she felt her breath catch.

"Don't let it get to you," Michael muttered. "Go in, will you?"

She looked up towards the building in front of them, blinking at the glare of the front light entrance. Two large glass doors opened before them despite no one being in sight, making her jump back.

"It's just automated doors," the teenager said with a sigh. He lightly pushed her through into the carpeted entrance, towards the brightly lit interior. In a low tone, he hissed, "Go on!"

Quietly, she obeyed and walked into the building. Almost immediately after the doors closed behind her again, once more startling her. She could see Michael nodding to her, mouthing just two simple words to her: "See you."

Yuki opened her mouth to question him, but the sound of footsteps softly came from behind her. She turned to the source, only to find herself staring into the bright eyes of a teenager Michael's age. The stranger was dressed in a nurse's outfit, and a white hat with a pink cross rested on her head. Her walk was slow along the red carpet, quiet and collected.

Yuki almost smiled at the sight of her hair: it was a violent shade of the most brightly colored pink she had ever seen. Instead of sharing the analysis, the nurse stared past the young girl, towards the man behind the closed doors. Her expression changed a bit, her lips curving into a soft frown, but the only action she made to show her displeasure was a sigh.

She turned to Yuki with a fluid movement, turning away from the man. "Well, I see the idiot brought you here. My name's Nurse Joy; welcome to the Pokémon Center."

"I-I'm Yu—I mean, Setsu," Yuki answered, blushing at her mistake. She lowered her head and stared at the ground to hide it. "U-um... It's very nice to meet you."

The young teenager nodded and walked over to Yuki, bending down and taking her by the hand. "Well, Setsu, it's nice to meet you, too. I'm sure you have a long story to tell if it was that _Risque_ who brought you here."

The way she spat out the word "Risque" made Yuki blink in confusion, but she had no time to question the nurse's attitude. Nurse Joy stood back up and dragged her away from the glass doors and towards a flight of glossy wooden stairs.

"W-what about—?"

"He'll be fine." The nurse said the words with an almost exasperated tone. She led the girl up the stairs slowly, making sure she wasn't more than a step behind. She seemed to be in a bit of a hurry despite her careful movements. "He always is. Jeez, I don't think I've ever seen him with more than a scrape, that guy."

"Ehh..." was all she could think to say in response. The stairs led to the second floor, which, unlike the first floor, had a wooden floor instead of a carpeted one. Hallways spread out from in front of them, to the right, and to the left, not unlike the old Migato manor. The nurse led them to the right corridor without any hesitation whatsoever, opening one of the doors that were in the walls.

Inside was a small, cozy room with a comfortable feeling to it. The walls were a soothing green as was the ceiling, and the bed that lay in the corner was large enough to fit an adult. Nurse Joy let go of Yuki's hand gently and surveyed the room thoughtfully.

"Hm... The bathroom's right across the hall, so you should be okay. Since you're the only one here, though, it doesn't really matter... You could always just come see me."

"Y-you're going to leave me here?" The word "alone" caught in her throat, though she desperately wanted to add it.

"Of course not!" the nurse answered quickly, shaking her head. "As if I could leave you here by yourself, especially when you're so young! Jeez, I can't _believe _how careless that Michael is!"

"H-he will come back, right?" Yuki asked. A bit of panic edged her voice. "Right?"

"Unfortunately," she said, shaking her head. "He always manages to do so, some way or another. Knowing him, you didn't even eat yet, right?"

The young girl shook her head sheepishly.

"That idiot..." The teenager sighed, as if suddenly losing her energy. "I bet this is confusing for you, right? Someone like me randomly popping into your life and talking to you like this."

Yuki shook her head at the statement, suddenly feeling guilt strike at her. "N-no, not at all! I'm starting to get used to it...probably. I'm very thankful, Nurse Joy..."

For the first time a smile broke the stiff expression on the nurse's face. "Did I tell you to call me Nurse Joy?" she said, a small tremble of laughter in her voice. "That's so stiff... Call me Mai. It's so much easier."

"M-Mai...-san?"

"-_San_?" Mai blinked at the word, held a finger up to her cheek with her eyes to the ceiling, and then shook her head before groaning. "_Please _don't tell me Michael kidnapped you from Sinnoh."

"H-he didn't!" Yuki felt herself flush at the word "kidnap," an almost indignant feeling filling her. "He really didn't, I promise!"

"But you're so good at English. Are you bilingual?"

"B-bilingual?"

"It means that you can speak two languages. Like English and Japanese." Mai held up the index and middle fingers of her right hand. "Can you?"

Yuki nodded meekly. "N-not well, though... My English isn't very good yet..."

"Ahhh, talented _and _modest. Not to mention cute." The nurse laughed lightly before patting Yuki on the head. "Man, I bet you'll be super popular when you get older. Everybody likes a smart cutie."

"C-cute?"

"Ah, you're blushing, you're blushing!"

The nurse laughed as Yuki held her hands to her cheeks in an attempt to cover her embarrassment. Mai's hand trailed down the girl's hair, and she let out an almost wistful sound. "That Michael really should have treated you better; your hair's a mess. Wanna take a bath?"

"A bath?" Yuki almost jumped in glee at the word. She hadn't paid it any mind, but when she really thought about it, she could almost feel the exhaustion of the journey sticking to her unwashed skin. It seemed much longer than it really had been since she had been in Damion's home. "Really?"

Mai gave another smile, then suddenly dropped to her knees and threw her arms around the girl. "Ahhhh, jeez, why'd you have to be so cute? Come on, let's take a bath with big sis, okay?"

Yuki nodded her head happily, smiling into the soft pink fluff that made up Mai's hair. "Mm!"


	33. Showers

The setting sun signaled the end of the day.

Derek couldn't help but groan as he lowered himself onto the grassy meadow. The route seemed to stretch out infinitely beyond him, making him wonder just how much longer he would have to walk.

He turned over onto his back and stared up at the reddening sky. The moon was visible now, glowing alone in the flames. It was almost as if it were a reflection of him; alone in an ever-encompassing sea of nothing.

With a roll onto his side, he let out a sigh. There was no time to waste with self-pity, he told himself.

Part of him wanted to keep walking, despite the fact night was falling. Though he wasn't sure what, something told him that he was almost to Viridian City, that it was only a few hours, maybe even minutes, away. If he kept going, he would reach it in no time.

Then again, he wasn't stupid. A lot of Pokémon would start moving at night, and he wouldn't want to get in their way. Plus, he was completely wiped out; he wasn't even close to being in shape. Every muscle in his body ached no matter how much he tried to deny it. Walking was like being stuck through with pinpricks.

Still, pain was one thing, but getting away from Pallet Town was another. He gazed wistfully towards the darkening sight ahead, wondering whether he should go or not.

He closed his eyes then. There probably wasn't any need to rush, so he would wait until tomorrow to get to Viridian.

"Hey, kid, you'll catch a cold if you sleep like that," said a stranger's voice.

Derek jumped to his feet in surprise. His heart thumped painfully hard as he looked up into the stranger's face. He was a young man, probably about eighteen, with short, cropped black hair. His eyes were a pale gray, like a dull fog—completely unlike the hard steel of Michael and Jane. His pale complexion identified him as someone from one of the eastern regions, possibly Sinnoh.

The man wasn't smiling, but his eyes had a disarming warmth to them. "You heading to Viridian City, kid?"

"Derek," the boy corrected instantly. "Not kid."

"Sorry. Derek, huh? That's a good name. Means "ruler of the people"; did you know that?"

Derek blinked. "No, I didn't."

"Well, now you do. Learn something new everyday." The man knelt down by his side, and Derek noticed for the first time that the man was wearing an expensive-looking black suit. "So? Are you?"

"Um... Am I what?"

"Heading to Viridian City, Derek." His expression softened as an amused light glowed in his eyes.

Derek nodded slowly. "Um...yes, I am. Are you...um...on a business trip or something? Wouldn't you have a car or an escort or...something?"

The man stared at Derek for a few seconds, his expression blank. Then, he burst into laughter for the first time—a booming laugh that seemed to shake the very earth itself. When he calmed down, he gave Derek a smile. "No, no, no. This suit isn't because I'm a businessman."

"Then?"

"Let's just say it's a bit of a habit of mine to wear suits. I don't mean to, but I generally get them without thinking." He gazed up at the sky. "I guess I was a bit older than you when that happened."

"You don't look old enough to be reminiscing," Derek pointed out, a bit of a frown pulling at his lips. "My uncle and brother wouldn't, for sure."

"Uncle and brother?"

"Yeah. Mi—" He caught himself and lowered his gaze to the ground. "_My_ uncle and brother..."

"I see." The man scratched his neck slowly, his gaze looking past Derek. "Are you going to meet them in Viridian City?"

"N-no..."

"Then?"

"I'm just...traveling. I guess."

"Aren't you a bit young to be traveling by yourself?" the man asked. "You don't look like you have a Pokémon, either."

"I'm not too young!" Derek said. "I'm almost seven—I can take care of myself!"

"I'm seven_teen_, and I still can't take care of myself," the man responded shortly. "Well, it's on the way, so I could take you to Viridian if you want."

Derek blinked. "I shouldn't follow strangers..."

"Derek, it's the middle of nowhere, and you're half my size. If I were going to do anything, it would have been a while ago."

While this was undeniably true, Derek still couldn't help a frown. "But..."

The man slowly stood up, dusted himself off, and held out his hand to Derek, brushing aside the boy's worries. "Well, come on."

Reluctantly, he took the man's hand, and pulled himself up as well. The man dusted his back off for him, ignoring the boy when he said it wasn't necessary. They began to walk down the dark path, the sun having fully set a while ago.

"Would you like a piggyback ride?" the man asked, something along the lines of a teasing tone coloring his voice.

Derek scowled. "No thankyou!"

The man only smiled to himself and reached into his suit. Out from inside he pulled out a small box of cigarettes and a lighter. He took one of the white sticks out from the box, though when he made to light it, he stopped himself.

"Ah... Second-hand smoke kills, doesn't it?" He tucked the lighter back inside his jacket. "Especially for ki—er...younger people."

Choosing to ignore the man's choice of words, Derek said curiously, "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Hm?" the man asked, chewing on the cigarette. "What is?"

"Keeping a lighter inside a suit?"

The man smiled. "Well," he said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth with a hand, "pockets are a man's pride. That's what one of my old friends told me. What's the point of having them if you don't use them?"

Derek glanced down at his pants' pockets. They were unmistakably empty. "...Well..."

"Besides, they always do that in the dramas and movies, don't they? Pull out tons of stuff from pockets."

"...I wouldn't know."

"Shame."

The two walked in silence for a few moments, with Derek trying desperately to get his legs to move without them burning in pain. He shifted his weight uncomfortably ever few steps, though nothing really seemed to work.

Apparently, the man eventually noticed and stopped walking. He turned to Derek with a bemused expression and said, "You could have said something."

_I didn't want to seem weak,_ Derek thought to himself meekly, though what came out was, "I'm sorry..."

Without even responding, the man pulled a Poké Ball out of his suit. It popped open to reveal a blue, four-legged Pokémon Derek knew to be a Vaporeon. Its long tail brushed the ground and waved around slowly, and its webbed ears twitched as she turned to him. Derek took a step back from the Pokémon, somehow feeling a bit threatened.

"Don't be afraid," the man said calmly. "Showers, Aqua Ring."

Tendrils of water extended from the Vaporeon's body before breaking off and surrounding Derek. They connected into multiple rings that glowed in the dark with a mystifying aquamarine shade. A sudden calmness overtook Derek's body, somehow _forcing_ him to relax.

The rings glowed brightly once before fading away, as if evaporating. He felt extremely soothed, yet at the same time an odd tremble had overtaken him. He shuddered, suddenly aware of the cold of the night.

"Feeling a bit better?" the man asked.

Derek clenched and unclenched his fist a few times, taking a few experimental steps at the same time. He cocked his head; the pain had subsided, but the chilly drafts he hadn't noticed before were something of an annoyance.

"I'm not sure," he admitted.

"Well, you look all right."

The boy turned to the Vaporeon sitting there, and he put a hand on its head hesitantly. A chill ran through him as if he had just been dumped in ice water. Shuddering, he managed to stammer, "T-thanks, Showers."

The Vaporeon merely nodded before disappearing into its Poké Ball again.

Derek turned to the man. "Thank you, mister."

"No need." He began to walk again, threatening to leave Derek behind in the dark. The boy had to jog a bit to catch up the man's quick, long stride. "Though 'mister' feels old."

"W-well," the boy gasped, "I haven't heard your name yet."

"You haven't?" The man stopped, and Derek nearly crashed into him. He turned to the boy. "Rude of me. I'll tell you, so don't call me mister, okay?"

"S-sure."

"It's nice to meet you, Derek." He held out a hand to the boy. "The name is Shouten Kurokawa."


	34. Baths

A content sigh escaped Yuki as she lowered herself into the warm water. Some of it overflowed and splashed out of the tub, falling to the brightly colored tiles below. The girl paid no mind, though, so caught up in her personal paradise she was.

Smiling lazily, she rested her back against the edge of the bathtub. The cold frame made her shiver, but it soon warmed to her touch. An indolent warmth spread through her body, reaching from head to toe—a sensation that she had started to doubt she would feel again.

_Relaxing _was the only word to describe the bath.

"Setsu?"

The girl instantly straightened up at the sound of Mai's voice. "Y-yes?"

"I'll leave a change of clothes here, 'kay?"

Yuki let her shoulders fall again, smiling to herself with appreciation. "T-thank you very much..."

"No problem, no problem. Take your time, okay?"

"Okay!"

She could hear the rhythmic beat of Mai's receding footsteps. A door's hinges let out a rude _creeak!_ before being muffled once again, leaving Yuki behind in silence.

The girl once again leaned back. She gazed up at the hazy white ceiling with a thoughtless stare, her mind wandering aimlessly, lost in the blanket of comfort she lay in.

A small giggle escaped her at the memory of a few minutes prior. She and Mai had entered the bathroom together, but they both realized right away that it was never intended to fit two people. Mai had scratched her head, stared at it with a studying expression, before dropping her head and giving up. The teenage nurse had looked honestly disappointed, though she had smiled regardless and helped to wash Yuki's hair.

Yuki smiled, her eyes wandering from the shower heads on the sky blue tiles of the walls to the fogged mirror on the opposite side. Only one spot on the mirror wasn't a pasty white: the spot where she had run her hand across to check her reflection in. The image was still vivid in her mind—a young girl fresh from the shower, damp hair falling down past the fluffy towel wrapped around her petite form. Her eyes were ravenous: tired, hungry, glistening with an odd dark light that contrasted oddly with the rest of her face.

One of her eyes peeked at the rippling surface of the bath. Her travels over the past few days had obviously had an effect on her; it was only to be expected. In just a week, she had crossed over an ocean to reach _Kantō_ from the town she had been born in, raised in, and had never left. She had met a boy with eyes like emeralds, a personality of even higher value, and a smile that could light up a room. She had met two of possibly the greatest Trainers of all time, shared conversations with both, and received help from both. And now here she was, comfortably taking a bath due to the kindness of a nurse she had been blessed to meet.

She was an extraordinarily lucky girl, now that she came to think of it. She closed her eye again and lowered her chin into the water. A noble born girl with an amazing bodyguard...she had had the good life compared to most people, hadn't she?

A displeased frown found its way onto her face, and her eyes opened. If she thought about it, she had thrown away her good fortune that most people would envy, and she still got good luck to go along with that escape. Normally, she would have gotten lost, possibly found herself in the middle of nowhere or in the trap of bloodthirsty pirates—

_No, no, that would never happen._ She mentally waved a hand at the silly notion of pirates.

After a few more minutes of these kinds of thoughts, she decided to abandon the pleasant bath in favor of going to Mai. She had kept the nurse waiting enough, after all. When it came down to it, though, it was much harder than she had imagined to actually get out of the bath.

Childish desire fought with etiquette. _Oh, for crying out loud,_ she thought. She pushed herself up and out of the bath, and an instant chill seemed to sink into her skin. Stubbornly, she stepped out over the bath and pressed her feet against the cold tiled floor. A shiver ran through her body.

Before leaving the bathroom, she turned to the bathtub and studied the plug. Mai had already taken her shower, but Yuki wasn't sure if she had taken a bath, yet. It wouldn't do any good to pull the plug and let the water go to waste, at any rate...

She would just have to go ask, she decided, leaving the plug untouched. She slid the frosted glass doors open, finding a neatly stacked pile of clothes on the ground with a towel on top. Delicately so as to not get the carpet wet, she reached out and gripped the soft white towel in her hand.

Drying herself off and pulling the clothes on, she exited the bathroom, leaving the lights on behind her. She made her way down to the lobby and found Mai sitting in one of the plush armchairs. Her pink hair still managed to bounce a bit when she turned to her despite being wet.

"How was the bath? Well, I guess I don't need to ask," the nurse remarked, stifling a small chuckle. Yuki blushed, a bit worried about what expression she had been making.

"Um... Should I have pulled the plug?" Yuki asked in a soft voice.

Mai blinked exactly once. Then, her mouth curved into a wide grin as she realized what Yuki was saying. Before she knew it, Yuki was already caught in a tight embrace.

"D'awww, that's so sweet!"

The most Yuki could manage was a "Ff—mmph?"

Mai giggled childishly. "Worrying about me, huh? You didn't have to go and do that! Oh, jeez, be my little sister, c'mon!"

"Puah!" Yuki rested her head on Mai's shoulder, trying to catch her breath. "I-I...um..."

"Nyaah, you! Are! Adorable!"

Yuki flushed a bright pink, but at Mai's antics, she could only smile.


	35. Boys

He called himself Shouten Kurokawa.

Derek watched him warily, keeping his distance. The man let off an odd aura of sorts, a strange feeling of oppression. It was as if a weight were pressing down on his shoulders just by being in the man's presence. It was a frightening, suffocating feeling, acting as a wall of sorts between the two. Derek had to consciously force himself to move his legs.

They walked in silence (something Derek rather appreciated), traveling over the dark paths at a quick pace. Derek stumbled more than once, but every time, with an enviable reaction speed, Shouten caught him before he could hit the ground.

"T-thank you," Derek would murmur.

Shouten would nod and say in return, "Careful now, Derek."

From what Derek could tell, the man was definitely a Trainer. Derek wasn't sure exactly how strong a Trainer Shouten was, but the level was probably rather high, considering Showers the Vaporeon and Shouten's powerful auras. The man also liked to wear suits for some reason, and he had business in Viridian City. He was a man who either cared for children, was a saint, or had an ulterior motive.

Derek glanced up at him, but Shouten's expression was unreadable. His foggy gray eyes stared ahead thoughtfully.

Time passed slowly as the boy contemplated what Shouten's motive could be. Their eyes had met several times already, and Derek's eyes were more than visible in the dark, but nothing had been said about them. Plus, Shouten hadn't really pressed on to ask what he was doing. It was much too weird, as if...

"Shouten?"

The man took the cigarette, whose end was rather bumpy, out of his mouth. "Yes?"

Derek wondered how to put his thoughts into words without sounding too suspicious. "Were you waiting for someone here?"

"Waiting for someone? What gives you that idea?"

"Well...you saw me right when I was going to stop for the night."

Shouten was twirling the small white cigarette around with his fingers as he turned to face Derek. "Hm... That does sound weird, doesn't it? I'd say that's just fate, though. I'm heading to Viridian City for work-related business."

"Work?"

"I've got some people I have to meet there. Can't tell you the details, or else I'd probably be in trouble, but you get the point."

He didn't, but Derek kept silent.

For a second, Shouten looked as if he were going to ask Derek something, but he turned back to the road instead, sticking the cigarette back in his mouth as he did so. Derek felt a bit relieved; he hadn't planned on what to say if it had turned to an interrogation about his reasons for being on the road.

"Though, Derek..."

Derek looked up. "Yes?"

"You said were you six, right?"

The boy tilted his head. "Yes...?"

"You're quite intelligent for your age. Your parents must be proud, as must be your older brother and uncle."

Derek smiled bitterly. "I'd like to think that."

Apparently noticing his tone, the man turned to him. "What, they don't appreciate you?"

"Not at all."

"So you're running away from home—is that it?"

The boy froze for a moment, but he hid it as quickly as he could. Shouten, however, merely smiled at him. In a calm voice, he said, "I met a kid who ran away from home before. He's now my closest friend. He never did go back, either."

"...That's not really something you should be telling a kid, is it?"

"No one ever said I was responsible."

Derek couldn't help but smile along with the man. "I suppose."

"Besides, if it was bad enough that someone like you ran, I'm sure you're better off on your own. My friend, Asita, told me that it's actually pretty easy surviving on your own as a kid. You just have to learn from the Pokémon."

"You mean like hunting berries down and all that?"

"More or less. I doubt you're a meat eater."

Derek shook his head, shuddering a bit at the thought. The backpack slung over his shoulders seemed to grow a bit heavier as he remembered about the egg inside. "I'm of Trainer descent. It'd be hard to imagine that kind of...murder."

"Survival of the fittest, Derek. I hope it never comes to that, though."

There was silence between them for a few minutes. They weren't far from the city gates, now, but for some reason Derek couldn't see any lights in the city. He turned to question Shouten about this, but the man had an oddly serious expression on his face, so he chose to keep silent.

Just as they passed through into the city, Shouten stopped Derek with a hand. He motioned for the boy to keep quiet.

The only sound in the night was the wind and their own breathing. Derek cocked his head, trying to hear or see what Shouten was waiting for, but there was nothing for miles. Still, the man's eyes darted around, catching something's movements.

Eventually, the hand in front of Derek lowered. "All right... Let's head on to the Pokémon Center, shall we?"

"The Pokémon Center?"

"You were already tired on the way here, so it's best you sleep as soon as you can. A Pokémon Center's comfortable, too. Use what you've got, right?"

"Right..."

The two walked through the streets. Derek cast glances at the houses around them, but the shadowed windows showed nothing but further darkness, which confused Derek. The entire city seemed empty save for them, like a mysterious ghost town of some sort.

"There it is."

Derek looked up but was momentarily blinded. The Pokémon Center was the only light in the dark city, and it was an intense one at that. Shouten seemed amused by Derek's momentary daze.

"I suppose you guessed this already, but I won't be sticking with you."

"Your work, right?"

"Indeed. Pokémon Centers don't generally accept...civilians, I suppose I could say, but you're a kid, so most will cut you some slack. If you're ever in a town with a Pokémon Center, check it out. It beats the streets, especially in the winter."

The glass doors opened automatically as they stepped toward it. They entered the main lobby, only to see an empty front desk. Derek turned to Shouten, but the man was looking in a different direction.

Derek followed his gaze, only to see two girls in two of the armchairs to the side. Both looked freshly washed, with damp hair and comfortable clothing on. The older of the two, looking maybe fifteen, had vibrant pink hair—the sign of the Center's Nurse Joy.

Derek glanced at the other girl, who looked about his age. For a second, he felt she was looking at him as well, but she turned away quickly. He did the same.

"Sorry," said Shouten, his voice bringing Derek's attention back to him. "I'm sure it's a bit late, but mind if I check in?"


	36. Girls

"Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Eight o' clock! Eight o' clock!" sounded the strange clock on the wall. A green model bird of the same species as the one she had seen in the meadow of Pallet Town—Pidgey, was it?—popped in and out of a pair of opening doors several times before going back to sleep inside of the clock. Yuki couldn't help a small laugh at the sight of it.

She turned her gaze back to Mai, who was gazing out one of the large windows to the night outside. They had been there in the lobby for just over a half hour, taking the time to relax after the soothing bath from before.

Yuki watched the older girl's profile intently. The lobby was well lit, but in the corner that Mai sat in, shadows crept onto her face. They darkened her expression, yet at the same time brought out a peculiar color in her eyes—an almost violet shade of blue. Her hair, pulled into a curly ponytail, was draped over her shoulder and also seemed to glow against the dark blue outside the window.

Almost like she knew Yuki was watching, the nurse turned to her. "Something the matter, Setsu?"

"N-nothing," Yuki said quickly. She averted her gaze in embarrassment without meaning to.

Mai only smiled. "It's an armchair, not a stool. You can relax, you know."

Yuki blinked before asking in a small voice, "Am I not relaxed...?"

"Well, you're sitting a _bit_ straight," the teenager said. "Isn't that kinda uncomfortable?"

The young girl glanced down, though she couldn't see anything irregular about her sitting position. "Is this...straight? I'm sorry, maybe I'm just different..."

"No, no, no," Mai interjected quickly, shaking her head, "that's not it. I bet it's just a culture thing, you know?"

"Culture?"

"You know, like... Like something common in a certain place. Kanto people can't use chopsticks, but Sinnoh people can, right?"

Yuki nodded. She hadn't used chopsticks often, but sometimes guests to the Migato manor who were uncomfortable with forks and knives had requested chopsticks. Her father then stubbornly insisted that everyone use chopsticks, so Yuki had been forced to learn despite rarely using them.

"Well, that's part of culture. Kind of like custom...well, if you know what that means."

Though she didn't, Yuki kept her silence and just nodded.

Mai opened her mouth to say something, but she was distracted by the soft sweep of the opening glass doors. Yuki turned her head to look around, only to blink in surprise.

A young man in a black suit stood at the door. He was obviously of Sinnoh descent; his hair and eyes were both dark. A strange cylinder of what looked like paper was sticking out of his mouth, and he chewed on it thoughtfully as he looked around the interior of the Pokémon Center.

She looked a bit down and noticed a brown-haired boy staring back at her. She averted her eyes before she could figure out why.

"Sorry," the man said, his voice gentle but heavy at the same time. He took the thin paper cylinder from his mouth as he spoke. "I'm sure it's a bit late, but mind if I check in?"

"No, I don't." Mai stood up from her seat and walked over to the two slowly. Yuki also rose from her seat, though she lingered where she stood.

The nurse held a hand to her chin in a thoughtful manner. "If it's a room for two, there's a good one on the second floor..."

"No, no, that won't be necessary," the man said, shaking his head. "Just for this ki—Derek, here." The boy looked up with an expression that seemed to be something between a laugh and a scowl. The man shrugged his shoulders apologetically.

"Well...if it's just him, I suppose a closer room would be better..." Mai frowned, and her brow furrowed a bit. "Are you sure you're okay leaving him here, though?"

"Miss," the boy Derek said, his voice surprisingly cold, "please don't assume that he's my guardian or anything."

"Now, now." The man put his head on the boy's head, ruffling his hair gently and making the boy glare up at him indignantly. "That's no way to treat a lady."

Mai gave an indifferent shrug, though she turned to Yuki with an exasperated expression. Her eyes seemed to say something along the lines of, "Don't think you'd get along with this kid." Yuki had to admit, she didn't think so, either.

The man cleared his throat, turning Mai and Yuki's attention back to him. "I'll be on my way, then. There's no cost or anything, is there?"

"The place is so empty, I'd rather pay you to stay," Mai said jokingly. Her tone cracked a smile out of the man. "No, it's free of charge, so no need to worry. You can go on your merry way."

"Then, please excuse me. See you, Derek. I'm sure we'll meet again somewhere."

"As long as it isn't when I'm going to sleep again."

The man chuckled, patted Derek on the head again, and then made his way out the door and into the darkness outside. It was oddly silent as the boy stared out the glass doors behind him, watching where his companion had been just a few seconds ago. Only now did Yuki realize how tired he looked: his hair was full of twigs and dirt, his clothes were torn and frayed, and his slumped shoulders made his whole figure look much too tired for his young, petite body.

He eventually turned to Mai and Yuki, his expression calm. His eyes seemed a bright color, though from the distance, Yuki couldn't tell exactly which one.

Mai stepped toward him, a placating smile on her face. "Well, I'm Mai, the Nurse Joy of this Poké..."

Her voice suddenly faded into silence, as if snagged by a line. Yuki, perturbed by this, made her way over to Mai, only to stop in surprise. Her curiosity was answered.

The boy's eyes were red—tinted a bloody crimson.

His eyes flickered from Mai to Yuki in a disgusted manner, his lips pulled back in a scowl. Something changed in his eyes, from a spark of anger to something much darker. He dropped his gaze to the ground, letting out a quiet, long breath.

"I suppose I should excuse myself, then," he said curtly, though his voice shook slightly. He let his bangs fall across his face, shadowing his eyes. "Ignore what he told you about the room."

He turned around, triggering the automatic doors. Neither Yuki nor Mai could snap out of it fast enough to stop him from running. He wasn't particularly fast (no faster than Yuki herself), but the darkness swallowed up any traces of him. By the time the nurse had exited the Pokémon Center, just a few seconds later, the boy was already completely out of sight. The small light the Center gave off wasn't enough to track his steps.

A deafening silence followed.

Yuki watched as the doors closed slowly, forming a glass wall between her and Mai's shadowed figure. She stared past the things in front of her, however, her mind focused on the boy.

_What beautiful eyes, _she thought, still stunned by their alluring shade.


End file.
